Storm Born
by TheMisnomer
Summary: Convinced by an evil and conniving Dumbledore, James and Lily abandon Harry in a dark forest shortly after his birth. In a twist of fate, this cruel act restores the ancient balance of magic in Great Britain. The dark is back - with a vengeance and with secrets that have been hidden for a millennia. Heavily AU, no Voldemort, Dark!Harry.
1. Cast Out (Part I)

**Edit Note:**

I use Canadian spellings, different from both British and American. These early chapters will continue to be edited and updated as I continue to write the story. I will include a note when posting new chapters if earlier material has been edited or changed.

 **A/N:**

Hello folks. I won't keep you long, just some introductory things. This is my second attempt at writing a fanfic, the first failed horribly because of university coursework. This story is going to involve some non-heterosexual relationships. It is rated T currently, this may change, but there will almost certainly be no smut. There will however be mature themes and language - eventually. Feel free to PM me if you have questions or comments. Assuming they never grow too large in volume I will get back to you eventually.

Regards,

K.

 **Chapter One – Storm Born**

The wind howled like it never had before, Albus Dumbledore was over a century old but he had never witnessed a storm the likes of this. He struggled against the rain and winds as he made his way down a cobblestone road. The road winded up along the side of a mountain, and with dense forest on either side. It was incredibly dark but the old wizard had his wand lit as he fought his way forward; he was a man on a mission.

Lightning began to crack above illuminating the path ahead of him, allowing him to finally see his target. Just another few moments battling the storm and eh would be there. Dumbledore hastened his pace, travelling now at a near run; there were many things Wizards could survive that non-magical folk could not, but a lightning strike in a storm like this was not on that list.

Finally the large copper gates and brownstone walls that guarded a large lodge-style estate were visible ahead of him - the top of the gates cresting and twisting together to form a large decorative hippogriff that stood guard over the gates. The copper hippogriff was the immortal crest of the Most Ancient and Noble house of Potter.

Dumbledore stared at the gates for a moment before shaking at them slightly - they were not opening for him as they normally were; it was most peculiar. James had long welcomed him at his family's ancestral home, and he had never had trouble with the gates before.

Just as he was about to send a patronus with a message that he hard arrived a carriage barreled up the trail behind him, pulled by two copper coloured hippogriffs similar to the one immortalized as the Potter crest on the estate's gates. The carriage was not obviously headed by anyone, but they rarely were in the magic world. The carriage paid him no heed, its occupants were likely not paying attention expecting a clear path, and the hippogriffs - well who knew with those beasts.

The gates opened seamlessly for the carriage, allowing Dumbledore enough time to scoot in behind it. The wards didn't reject him as he carried on down the trail in his half-run.

By the time Dumbledore had reached the receiving hall of the estate the guests carried by the carriage had already made their way through the ancient home. Dumbledore remembered seeing light blazing from one of the larger rooms in the upper floors and so he made his way toward the room. The estate creaked in the wind as he ran up the stairs much to briskly for a man of his age; magic surely did wonders for the centenarian's endurance.

As he got closer to the room he could finally hear proof of why he had been called to the estate; Lily Potter was in labour.

-o-O-o-

Dumbledore walked into a room that was already quite full of the Potter's friends and loved ones. The room's occupants were deathly quiet, that being said they barely noticed the sounds of the storm. Lily was the focus of the entire room; she was heavily pregnant and whimpering incoherently. Her forehead shined with a thick coat of sweat and her hair was plastered over her face and neck. Her breathing was deep and ragged, her skin even more pale than usual. But she was too exhausted to scream any more so whimpers were all that escaped her cracked lips. Lily Potter was giving birth, and it appeared that it might likely be her final act.

Rain beat against the windowpanes curving the glass slightly – just enough to make the inhabitants of the large wooden manor home wary, despite the charms that prevented their fears from being actualized. Thunder crashed above them, quickly following the lightning strikes that struck down century old trees that dotted the land.

A tall man hovered behind Alice, watching James, his own best friend, plead and beg for the life of his wife and the babe she was to bring into this world. He cursed the Gods that he was unable to do anything and that the couple could not share the blessing of an easy birth he and his wife had experienced just yesterday.

A man with red hair, barely seventeen, stood in front of the large picture window that threatened to crash in around him. He was scanning the grounds with an eagle-like focus for any possible signs of danger. A single fang earring protruded through his left earlobe, barely visible through his untamed orange hair. Several scars already decorated his young face. He turned and met Dumbledore's eyes as he old man entered the room, but the young man did not nod or smile in greeting to the man; no, both Charlie and his brother Bill had never been fans of Albus Dumbledore.

A gaunt-looking man with unruly long black hair stood in the far corner behind James. His eyes shone with worry and were haunted by some unspoken sadness. It was unfair that a babe would have to be brought into this world without a mother, and the mere shadow of a father it could have had if its mother had lived. Sirius remembered the loss of his own lover, and child, holding back tears. This was not the time to remember the tragedy he had gone through himself, though the similarities of their two situations were already startling.

Remus Lupin stood at his best friend's side watching the room's going-ons with a vacant expression.

The entire manor shook with the latest gust of wind. The glass enclosing the various candles and lanterns that lit the room vibrated. Strange tinkling and rattling sounds filled the room that could have been misinterpreted as signs of the manor itself being nervous. They were quickly drowned out by a loud but clearly distant bang, likely something from the grounds had taken wing upon the storm's gusts and struck the manor. It was neither the first or last of its kind that night.

"Thank goodness Albus you are here. She still has a chance, but we have to intervene immediately." The young diligent woman who dared to speak knealt between the red head's spread legs. Her arms were coated in blood, reaching up as far as her elbows in some parts. The old wizard she had spoken to simply nodded, a permanent grimace decorating his face as he stood over the group - most of which were looking at him to help.

At the head of the red head's bed were her husband and closest friend. James held her hands as if he was ready and willing to physically pull her back from death at a moment's notice. He uselessly muttered kind and pleading words into her ear "Lils… Lils you cannot leave me. Lils I need you…" He barely spoke, but still everyone in the room could hear his pleading. Beside him, his wife's best friend stood unable to look at her struggling friend. Her body wracking with silent sobs

"The purple one Alice – give her the purple one" the determined mediwitch barked, she left no question in her tone and the emergency of the situation was clear.

Alice wasted no time in guiding a vial with a thin purple liquid between her best friend's lips.

They continued this way for some time, the residents of the room were quiet, acting as a stoic guard, as Dumbledore and the young mediwitch cast spells on Lily and directed people to feed her various potions.

"Fight the darkness Lily, you have the power within you to overcome this." Dumbledore said sternly, his voice was crystal clear and unwavering, but his face was that of a wizard in agony, watching one of his most loyal followers and closest friend battle for her life and that of her unborn child.

Not long after Albus's words Lily's breathing became increasingly laboured – coming in long and deep shuddering gasps. Her eyes regained a life to them as if she were aware of her surroundings once more. The storm calmed for just a moment, teasing that it would be over just as quickly as it had started. Everyone in the room stood in silence before a loud wailing cry could be heard breaking their silence.

Lily's stricken face twisted into the happiest of smiles at the sound, the baby's wails making it through to her barely conscious mind. Her hollow looking eyes focused just enough to stare at the light she had brought into the world, her son.

"Jamieson" her cracked lips croaked out the name before they broke into an exuberant smile. The babe was cleaned and handed to Albus immediately. It would have to wait to be examined by the medi-witch; the baby's mother was closer to losing her life. Despite the miracles magic could produce childbirth was rarely ever easy. Albus looked over the babe quickly, probing its aura and cast a few spells over it. He was relieved that the child felt as any other respectable newborn might, he was pure and of the light. Dumbledore hummed a happy tune at the child and focused on wrapping the boy in a soft blue blankt before handing him off to his father.

James coddled the babe in her arms, kneeling close so that Lily could greet the new life she had brought into the world. She cooed at the boy as she started to doze off – slipping away to rest. A reddish brown tuft of hair and deep brown eyes were all that could be seen of the babe as his parents snuggled him between them.

The healer however was not resting; she began worrying. Lily's bleeding hadn't slowed down at all, if anything it had increased. There was no sign of afterbirth… In fact, all the typical signs indicated a second child was on the way. Lily remained dilated. Contractions continued. She frowned, she was not told to expect a second babe – and her scans did not indicate there would be a second child. Twins she thought – they must be twins. "But how?" She whispered under her breath.

Dumbledore was caught off guard by the healer's words, and turned just in time to be assaulted with a wave of magic so exotic and foreign to him it nearly took his breath away. No one else in the room was so attuned to magic as he was, likely because of his raw magical strength. Dumbledore's face developed hard creases as he scrutinized the mediwitch who was indeed preparing for a second birth; he did not know what to make of the situation, but he did not like it.

Suddenly the storm had returned with a vengeance. The wind whipped at the manor in a frenzy, tearing at the walls as if it was trying to force its way inside. Lighting flashed over and over again, closer to the manor each time. It illuminated the room in a ghostly glow. The skies opened up and from them poured rain that had not been seen in centuries.

And that was when Lily Potter was dragged from her nearly unconscious state, sitting up slightly, her eyes shot open, and from her mouth came an otherworldly scream. Her mouth could form no words. Her newborn son began to wail in her arms under his father's careful guard. But her scream continued, her eyes bulging nearly out of her head, ghostly shadows cast over her face from the lightning

The mediwitch leaned in again, and prepared herself to assist the second babe's departure from its mother. She was prepared for a battle; births like these had never been easy and Lily wasn't the ideal candidate for birth mother. As she braced herself for a battle against nature the babe surprised her.

He passed from his mother as if propelled, though still gently enough for the mediwitch to catch him. With his exit came a truly guttural scream from his mother. Blood gushed from the birth canal, bathing the child in his mother's life. Her screams only intensified, as if the babe had torn part of her with him as he entered the world.

"Another boy" Dumbledore muttered, but his words went unheard over the raging storm.

Lily's mouth began to form a sound, some part of a word, before her consciousness abruptly left her. Her face remained twisted in a truly fearful – disgusted position as her eyes lulled shut and she fell back against the birthing table. The mediwitch got to work quickly casting more powerful spells on Lily that would have been unsafe had the woman still be pregnant. It wasn't long before she had done all she could do, and she turned her attention back to the second infant.

Carefully she washed his mother's blood off of the child. The babe was strangely thin, his skin was almost translucent, the colour of moonlight. He had almost a whole head of black hair, still wet with afterbirth and blood. He already looked elegant, pureblood features gracing his physique; truthfully he looked nothing like his brother. The mediwitch held her breath.

Everyone in the room waited with baited breath to hear the babe cry, signalling to everyone it was alive and well, but the babe did not cry. He stared up at the mediwitch with his large luminescent emerald green eyes, but he did not cry. He did not fuss. He barely moved, if only to seek some form of comfort. It was as if, almost impossibly, the child had decided the storm outside was enough of a fuss to make upon his entry to the world.

The wind continued to howl, and the lightning continued outside, each flash bringing with it thunder that shook the house to its foundation.

The babe shut his eyes, and just like that with one great and final flash of lightening that burned the eyes of all who looked, the storm was over. The howling winds died down, the rains finally recessed, and the air hung eerily still as if lightning could crack through and shatter the peace it had left at any moment – but it would not. Not tonight.

The scarred young man with orange hair paused from his protective vigil over the Potter estate to lay eyes on the youngest son of Lily and James Potter. His deathly pale face was calm, his body looked too thin and too elegant for someone so young. He had very little baby fat but somehow he managed to not appear sickly, just odd. Charlie watched on as the mediwitch fussed over the boy. Casting various diagnostic spells, measuring this and that. James remained by Lily's side, staring transfixed at his own first born son – a spitting image of his own father aside from what would likely be Lily's red hair.

Sirius had joined the mediwitch in doting on the youngest of the two children. He conjured a deep forest green blanket to wrap him in – they were unprepared for a second child and improvisation would have to do.

The mediwitch continued her diagnostics, checking the babe over. He did not appear ill, but she had to be sure. The babe was certainly not normal, and for the world and his mother to react in such a way upon his birth… She did not believe in omens, she was not a superstitious woman at all, but she was sure that this babe was special – he needed the utmost care.

"Albus… I'd like for you to check the boy's magic over. From all my inspections the child does not seem ill – but he's far too… " she struggled looking for a word "… bizarre to not take precautions, and then considering the storm…" her voice trailed off. The Mediwitch laid the boy down on a high table that had originally held supplies for the delivery. The boy simply sighed and fidgeted a little in a light sleep.

"Of course – it would be my pleasure." Albus focused hard on not rolling his eyes. These people were so superstitious. Believing in their false Gods – it was a storm, it meant nothing and the babe was a little slim – so what? But he had to admit, the magic he felt when the child had entered the world was quite unusual… He swept over to the table and looked down on the child. He felt a nagging tug in his stomach – this child… something was indeed off about him. Albus pushed that away and focused on the boy, touching both his index fingers to opposite sides of the child's head.

Albus recoiled instantly as if he had been bitten. He was shaken to the very core. Perhaps the storm did mean something…? No. He dashed the thought in an instant, he could no longer believe in the Gods. Would no longer place any faith in them.

"Good heavens Albus what is it?" The mediwitch stared at the man waiting for her answer.

Albus had to think quickly. The boy was dark. Dark and powerful, more so than he cared to imagine. He dared not imagine what this boy could become should he live to his inheritance. He dared not contemplate what this boy could mean for their world, his world.

"I'm afraid the child is gravely ill Andy". Dumbledore coached his face into a solemn appearance. He bowed his head and folded his hands before he spoke again. The child was sick, sick and twisted with a magic that was untamed and refused to bow. "The boy has disharmonious magic – his magic is attacking him from within." Albus coached his face into a tight grimace and recited what he knew about the disorder from the book he had read centuries ago. "It is much like the auto-immune diseases that the muggles have been struggling with – except only in this case it is the magic is attacking the body, not the body attacking itself."

Many of the adults in the room gasped at such news. Such a disorder was extremely dangerous and extremely rare, so rare that some believed it did not actually exist. The only other recorded disharmonious core in centuries had actually been Sirius's only child. For such a tragedy to happen twice so recently… and to strike two close friends; it was unthinkable.

Sirius' daughter had been born on a quiet summer night two years ago in a room not unlike the one they were currently in. Dumbledore was present, and in tandem with Madam Pomfrey, had revealed that the little girl's core would destroy her within a month.

And the disease had destroyed her, almost taking Sirius and his extended family, and the inner circle of the Order of the Phoenix with her. It had been a great burden on all of them to watch her die, trying to save her from herself.

All the adults in the room came to a hushed silence echoing their despair. They would have to endure that horror again.

Dumbledore inhaled deeply, looking down at the child before he began speaking again. "I'm afraid the child does not have long… he is far more powerful than Urs-". James' wails of sorrow cut him off before he could finish, but they all knew the little girl's name all too well. Ursula.

Sirius left the room in a haste, hiding his face from everyone. No one followed him, knowing that he needed to be alone but Charlie Weasley's eyes trailed the man as he left - he was unable to leave his post, as he was obligated to guard over these birth by his family's magic, and oath, to the Potters. Sirius could never bear the thought of his daughter, the sorrow of his daughter's loss had once consumed him; he had somehow emerged from it but his lover had not been so lucky.

No one questioned why he had left.

Remus was the first to speak after that.

"There's nothing that can be done Albus?" The grizzled werewolf looked at his mentor expectantly.

"You know the child cannot be saved Remus." The man paused. "To prolong his suffering would be cruel. The humane thing to do, the light thing to do, would be to allow him Godric's rights".

Several of the adults in the room gasped while the scarred orange haired man looked confused, verging on furious. "That is an antiquated and barbaric ritual Dumbledore! The child would stand no chance at all! And in these forests no less!?" Charlie marched over to the table, standing protectively over the child.

"Even now his magic erodes his life Charlie." Dumbledore's eyes burrowed into the red head's own, his face the perfect mask of grandfatherly concern and aged commander.

"At least this way he still has a chance – and if not, it will be quick." The mediwitch's voice died and she shaped the last words. She had been uncharacteristically silent until this point, having originally been consumed by sorrow like the other adults in the room. It was not easy to hear the news that a child you had just helped bring into the world and entered it with such an early death sentence already hanging over its head.

"It is decided then, we must do the compassionate thing" Albus pronounced. James did not protest, his body wracked with sobs as he clung to his unconscious wife and firstborn.

Dumbledore took the child into his arms. Even now, without using the sight, he could feel the wildness of this child's magic. Yes, this was the best thing to do. He must do it for the greater good. Dumbledore pushed forward, walking at a steady pace through the manor and out into the grounds, and then the forest surrounding the manor. Behind him walked Charlie, Poppy, Alice, and her husband Frank. The Longbottoms continued to stand as witness for their best friends, the Potters, while Charlie and Poppy had followed out of respect for the child.

Dumbledore stopped walking when they could no longer see the lights of the Manor. The air hung eerily still, it was heavy with moisture and edged on the side of unstable. He laid the child down under a large canopy of overgrown cypress trees.

Albus bowed his head, feigning respect and sadness for the activity at hand. "Goodbye, youngest of the Potters. It is with sorrow that we release you back to lady magic and her sisters, night and wild. May they guide you through the night on your journey – and should our paths in life cross once more and we come to conflict, should the fates will it so, then my debt to you shall be paid with my mortal soul."

The old wizard recited the words carefully, he remembered them all clearly from the old tome he had read. He placed no stock in them, the old Gods, fates. He knew it all to be nonsense.

Yet those around him found comfort in that nonsense, so a valuable tool it made.

The child's eyes flashed open as soon as Dumbledore finished the ritualistic words. He didn't make any noises, or move. He just silently watched his would-be funeral procession and executioner.

Dumbledore and the healer turned to leave, their hearts heavy, leaving the child in the copse of cypress trees. Charlie however did not turn around with them. He had made an oath to guard this child, and guard him he would. Something could be done, something had to be done.

Nobody had noticed the bird that sat in the trees, watching everything that happened that night. Perhaps they had not cared to notice. And unbeknownst to Charlie he was not the only one guarding this child.

 **A/N:**

"Godric's rights" is a reference to infanticide, which has been a common practice in many cultures. I'm not endorsing infanticide, just depicting a conception of it.


	2. Darkness Between the Stars (Part I)

**Edit note:  
** See Chapter 1 E/N. Minor changes throughout.

 **A/N:**  
Behold: Chapter two, featuring a new and improved scene break because Regus the owl appears to not be a fan of computers.

Enjoy the chapter.

 **Chapter Two: Within the Darkness Between the Stars**

A regal bird ruffled its feathers in annoyance as the old whitened wizard departed the copse of trees. The bird's distaste for the man was obvious. Once the coast was clear and the light wizard was gone, the bird gracefully swooped down to land next to the child that had been abandoned there by the old man. The bird's black feathers, accentuated with shades of dark green, made for excellent camouflage in the dampened forest.

The child gurgled at the bird, reaching to grab at its beautiful feathers. His large emerald eyes sparkled with joy for the first time at the sight of something so beautiful.

The bird ruffled again, making an odd chirp that sounded like laughter. He kept his distance from the small child, only staying close enough to ensure its safety. He was not really sure what had motivated the old whitened wizard to bring a child to such a place and abandon it, but it could sense that this was not the child's fate. And the bird would be damned if it allowed fate to go awry.

It didn't take long until the regal bird could hear something, or somebody, moving through the brush. He squat into a defensive position, ready to fulfill its obligation to fate and protect the child if need be.

As the thing got closer, it became clearer to the bird that it was in fact a who, a tall slim who, with all the "right" features, similar in fact to the very ones the child possessed. The bird fluttered back up to the high branches of the strongest cypress tree and watched, its dark green eyes taking in everything.

"Oh what did that doddering old fool do to you little one." The tall man's curly black hair was messy and his face was a mask of concern. He continued to move through the brush, moving closer to small clear area with every step.

"Sweet merlin, thank the fates I've found you" the dark man said under his breath.

He reached down and picked up the child, who blinked up at him with his bright emerald orbs. The babe did not make a noise, or fuss. He just continued to look up at his saviour, blinking slowly and sleepily, if not a bit curiously.

"You must be bloody freezing. Blimey that old coot is such a bastard" the wizard muttered as he took off his own robe to wrap around the child. His jacket underneath his robes was thin and expensive, and was not at all suitable to the weather. He was already cold, but he didn't care.

He continued walking through the forest, coddling the babe close to his chest. The wind whistled through the trees around them making eerie noises that seemed to echo through the forest somehow. "I know the wards end around here somewhere…" the dark man muttered as he kept moving through the forest. Luckily it didn't take long for the man to feel the difference in the air as he left the complex ancestral wards of the Potter estate. He didn't notice the large black bird that hopped from branch to branch, following them.

"Here were go kid, you will never have to see those ruddy fools ever again… and I hope for their sakes that I never have to see them again." He spoke soothingly to the child even knowing that there was no way the boy could understand.

The tall man's clothes were torn from the walk through the dense forest, and there were twigs in his hair – but he had saved the boy's life. Everything was vindicated by that.

He pulled out a large and shining black coloured pendant on a silver chain, held the child tightly to his chest, and muttered the words of his forefathers "toujours pur." Just like that, where they once stood there was nothing. The large black bird let out a single sharp note, looked toward the Potter, and fluttered away.

Sirius landed in the receiving hall of his ancestral home; Blackweald.

"Master blood traitor was told never to –" the old house elf was silenced by a quick wave of Sirius's wand. He was not in the mood for the mad old elf's nonsense.

"Krasus, you will go and fetch Lord Black, my _grandfather,_ this instant." Sirius' voice was sharp as he commanded the old house elf, he was sure to tack on his relation to the lord of the family just to remind Krasus what would happen if the elf refused him. Unable to disobey the order, the elf quickly popped out of the room.

Sirius exhaled deeply as he sat down on the over-elegant furniture that was positioned around the large receiving hall. The chairs were all made of dark wood with soft and plush silver coloured upholstery. Tapestries hung around the walls depicting the great deeds of his ancestors. Most notable were those of Lord Polaris Black an infamous dark lord who lived centuries ago, and Lord Vega Black his ancestor that was one of the seven original founding lords of the Wizenmangot dozens of centuries ago. Many other tapestries adorned the shining and dark coloured stone blocks that composed the entrance hall. There was even a small tapestry for Phineas Nigellus Black, a recent headmaster of Hogwarts. The very top of the large cylindrical receiving hall was a glass dome. Normally it would allow in starlight, or flood the hall with daylight. But tonight the hall was darker than he had even seen it, a mark of the storm that had only recently calmed.

He fussed over the babe for just a second, making sure that he was dry and fully covered by the conjured green blanket and his robe. He was just resuming his elegant posture when his mother walked into the hall.

"Returned home a beggar, have you, boy?" A tall and elegant woman stood in a grand archway that led further into the house. She wasn't particularly beautiful though she did possess enough pureblood features to be a worthy wife to the house she had married into. She held a sneer on her face and her arms were crossed, the long sleeves of her dress hanging almost to the floor.

"Hullo mother" Sirius responded blankly. "I see you have not aged a day". Sirius' lips curled into a mischievous smirk – he had not seen the woman in years and she had not aged well.

The babe he held however had picked that moment of all times to stir, moving his legs and arms slightly, and making gurgling noises.

His mother's eyes came alive with a strange light. "What's that you've got there? Some bastard spawn you've conjured up with another mudblood or blood traitor no doubt." His mother's face had darkened into a sneer.

Before his mother could continue, or he could react, the house elf appeared in the room again with a thick black woolen blanket, and a warm bottle of milk "For the little Lord" Krasus muttered as he passed both items to Sirius solemnly.

Sirius's would have refused the items if he hadn't known that the Black family's house elves, like all others, were given orders not to harm children.

Sirius fussed over the child again and wrapped him more securely in the new blanket. It was much warmer and Sirius could tell that the child was more comfortable. He placed the bottle to the babe's lips and the child began to suck.

Sirius' mother stood surprised at the actions of her favourite house elf. "Krasus!" she spat. I thought I told you that this filth was not heir of our house, you are not to serve on him or any of his filthy progeny – just as you were forbidden to serve he or the progeny of that filthy lover he had.

Any response that elf could have made was cut off by Sirius' harsh and angry tone. "I'll have you know _mother_ , that Elisabeth was not a mudblood, she was from a highly esteemed house of French –"

"Yes, yes. Mudblood, toad. All the same. Both live in filth and squalor and are unfit for our presence." His mother's face had not untwisted from the ugly snarl it had formed into when she saw her oldest child.

"Oh come now Walburga, you're such a bitter soul. There are many French houses as pure as ours. My own house, for example, originated in France. In fact, the Blacks were once French, for a time at least! Of course the Blacks did not originate from the continent, but their culture has seen enormous interchange with ours – or have you been too dense to notice that our _house words_ are themselves _French!_ " Sirius grinned at his grandmother's appearance. She had shut his mother down quickly. He had always had liked the woman, and was glad to be reminded why.

His mother sputtered in embarrassment at being reprimanded by her mother in law. She turned a particularly unsightly shade of pink and bowed her head low. "Y-Yes of course Analise, my apologies to you and your family."

"Yes, it is about time that you apologize to this family for being such an embarrassment. Be gone with you, silly woman. Do not let me see you again unless I specifically call for you." Sirius's grandmother intentionally used her French accent that had been trained out of her many years ago. Sirius watched in amusement as his mother skittered away like a beaten dog into the darkened hall of the Black estate.

"Sirius, a pleasure. You've brought a child I see?... Not your own I presume?" Sirius' grandmother stood over him as an imposing figure but she wore a kind face and had a kinder heart.

"No Gran, he's not mine. He was abandoned because of one of Dumbledore's plots. Abandoned to Godric's rights for Merlin's sake."

Her face darkened immediately, and it scrunched as if she had been presented a plate of rotten meat. "What an antiquated practice, not even the highest echelons of our society dare practice that anymore. There simply are not enough people of magical blood to go tossing out infants like that. Good heavens whatever was that man thinking…" Sirius remained silent the entire time, letting his verbose grandmother finish her rant. "… Perhaps Mr. Dumbledore's mother should have left _him_ out for the birds, Gods know that ruddy flaming chicken of his is awfully scrawny."

"I agree Gran, that phoenix has seen better days" Sirius replied, trying to distract his grandmother from her tirade.

"Yes of course of course. Do excuse me, I am a bit… excitable tonight. Sirius, when did you say that this child born? A few days ago I presume?"

"I hadn't. This is the youngest son of James Potter, he was born several hours ago in fact. Dumbledore was quite prompt in his declaration that the boy's core is unstable." Sirius spat the last word, you could almost see the venom on his lips.

Sirius' gran began tutting her lips and shaking her head. She leaned over to take the babe from Sirius and began again. "Oh goodness left for the birds and the poor child is but hours old – and to be born amidst a storm such as this! Whatever was –" her speech came off as she held the babe in her arms.

"And that, my child, is interesting…" Her voice drifted off, eyes staring into some time and place long gone, she swayed slowly from side to side as if she was dancing to some unheard music.

"Gran… Gran are you alright?" Sirius watched his grandmother carefully as she continued to sway slowly to some unheard music. Sirius reached out as if to take the babe from his swaying grandmother.

"Yes of course I am Sirius." His grandmother's eyes suddenly became clearer and more focused. She fussed over the babe some more before carefully passing the child back to him. "I presume you're here to see your Grandfather? I'll go have a word with him and then fetch him, it should not take long."

"Hold tight grandson, make sure you feed the boy. He's been through enough stress already." She was barely able to tear her warm eyes away from the child.

Sirius didn't respond to his grandmother's admonishments. He knew that this was how she showed her affection – he was just pleased that she hadn't thrown him and the child out, his mother certainly would have.

Sirius was soon ushered down the hall into his Grandfather's study. The room was guarded by a polished black door that was accented with silver. There was no knob on the door, simply a silver plaque on the outside. The door opened quickly for him revealing the ornate, but somehow welcoming study that his grandfather often inhabited. The back wall was covered mostly in portraits of previous lord Black's but he knew the walls on either side of him were composed of bookshelves built into the walls themselves. Old tomes were packed tightly into them, their spines revealing their ages and the contents that lay within.

"Sirius I have to apologize that I made you wait so long. I was in a business meeting with Lord Bones when you first arrived and I had made specific instructions not to be disturbed unless it was ordered by the Wizenmangot. Important business you see." Arcturus Black sat in a high-backed throne like chair behind a large similarly ornate desk made of a particularly dark wood. Directly behind his grandfather he recognized a portrait of his great grandfather, who snoozed quietly in the frame. He had died when Sirius was just a boy but had retired many years prior to that.

"The apologies are mine, Lord Black. I ask your forgiveness for turning up unannounced, but the situation was most dire." Sirius waved his wand combining the two elegant but decidedly uncomfortable chairs that sat before his Grandfather's desk into one overstuffed but still noble-looking chair. He was careful not to disturb the baby he carried, who was now sleeping.

"Nonsense Sirius, nonsense. And call me Grandfather, you are part of the family despite the wishes of your darling mother. To hell with formalities, you've always been my favourite grandchild." His grandfather's face held a tone of sarcasm when speaking about Sirius mother. It was not lost on Sirius that being his grandfather's favourite meant very little, considering the competition.

"Yes, old pops did have poor taste didn't he? And how are my cousins? Well I hope?" Sirius muttered the last part.

His grandfather's eyes sparkled. "Cousin Narcissa is well, she recently gave birth to a young boy named Draco. Belatrix however, is much too fond of your mother… She made quite the impression on Lady Bones the other day." His grandfather's speech faded off warily before he poured a large portion of fire whiskey into two glasses.

"I presume this conversation is one that will require a drink, is it not?" The man handed a glass to Sirius before quickly summoning a regal-looking bassinet.

"Sirius nodded and put the too-calm child inside the bassinet that a house elf had provided. He had not fussed at all since he had been fed. His large green eyes flickered for a moment before he closed them once more.

"Whose is he?" Arcturus asked, his tone quiet, calm, and protective.

"Was." Sirius corrected. "Whose _was_ he."

"I did not want to be presumptuous about the situation, you have my apologi-" The older of the two black haired men did not get a chance to finish speaking before the younger waved him off.

"Who would want to presume such a dreadful thing". Sirius' voice grew quieter and colder as he thought of how this had happened.

Both men took long sips of the vibrantly coloured whiskey they held.

"He belongs to the Potters" Sirius began speaking, in a measured, cautious tone. The second of two boys, not twins." Sirius's words crept out slowly, while his tone had grown stone cold. He spoke of his old friends as if they were barely acquaintances. Only his grandfather was able to see the pain held within his silver eyes. The other man said nothing but nodded in silence, something within him being comforted by the thought of 'noble blood.'

"How old is the babe?" Arcturus' face was a mask of responsibility. His face was calm but tense – his long and slender pureblood features accenting the wise old warlock's mask of calm.

"Just a few hours now, he was born just after midnight."

The old warlock's face registered something for a moment but almost instantly returned to the cool mask typical of noble purebloods.

"And what reason do you have for removing him from the care of his parents?" Arcturus' voice held a dangerous tone here – the answer that Sirius gave could dictate the future of his family, and likely that of the Potters as well.

"I did not." Sirius looked up at his grandfather, his face was not concealed by the same pureblood mask of indifference that his Grandfather used. His face showed vicious anger.

His grandfather only stared calmly back at him. If Sirius had not taken the boy then what had happened? Surely the Potters had not wilfully surrendered the child, they could easily care for him many times over. That left only a few options.

"And while you did not steal the child away in the night, I do presume that they have not entrusted you with his care either?" Arcturus' face retained the deathly calm mask as he continued to interrogate and assess the situation.

"You would again be correct Grandfather." Sirius answered promptly again. Both of their glasses remained perched on the ornate desk, untouched.

Arcturus remained silent for a moment. While his posture remained the image of perfection, and his face retained it statuesque stillness, his silver eyes grew unfocused as he started into the ether.

"Tell me." The phrasing was unusually short for his Grandfather. Sirius steadied himself and inhaled deeply.

"Dumbl-" he began, but he did not get a chance to finish.

Arcturus' exploded from his desk sending his chair crashing back into the wall. All of the glass in the room shattered in a flare of magic and rage which was followed by several items flying off of shelves onto the floor. The oil lamps that lit the walls flared before darkening completely. The only remaining light in the room was that of a magical artifact that sat affixed to the wall of the large study. It cast an eerie green glow over the room, barely lighting the room enough to illustrate the features of the two men.

Almost as soon as his outburst began someone entered the room. He saw his grandmother march in with a stern look on her face. She did not speak, simply taking from the room to somewhere considerably safer. Arcturus did not even seem phased.

"That ruddy old fool is going to pay!" Arcturus' voice was barely a whisper but it conveyed his burning rage much better than any scream of rage could have. "He cannot possibly imagine that we would simply stand back with our wands up our arses while he commits _infanticide._ " The last word came out as more of a curse than anything. His grandfather's anger remained clear and the tall imposing man remained standing in a towering rage.

Sirius didn't make any moves to calm his grandfather, he knew better than to disturb the man when he was in a rage like this.

"Retribution will have to be exacted of course. We have no other choice buy to mobilize and destroy this awful man!" Arcturus' face had settled into a cold glare when he said those words.

"I couldn't agree more." Sirius' statement was simple, but for Arcturus it was like a breath of fresh air that brought him back down to reality.

Sirius summoned a second bottle of fire whiskey and a set of glasses. He sat to pouring them both two more healthy sized amounts as the older of the two men sat down again. Arcturus picked up his glass in downed it at once. Sirius remained silent, and simply refilled the now empty class.

"In the morning we will recognize the child as a protectorate of house Black under its Lord, and its heir". Arcturus' face and tone gave his grandson no chance to interrupt. "Does he have a name yet Sirius? You said he was born to the Potters but I am not aware of their naming rites and rituals."

"No grandfather, he has not been named yet, not even informally." Sirius answered politely, he would have to look out for the child so he would not be adopted into house Black.

The man's anger stirred again and Sirius would swear he had seen a flash of red in his grandfather's famously grey eyes. "Then we will adop-"

"We will not. He will be named my heir, our protectorate, but he will pick his own house." Sirius' voice cut in over his grandfather's for the first time.

The patriarch of house black looked for a moment as if he was going to explode. But then he settled, as a flash of recognition, and maybe even pride, crossed his face and lighted his features.

"I can acquiesce to that grandson. But should you have a trueborn son, his rightful place will obviously be as your heir."

Sirius didn't argue with the man. He knew how important keeping bloodlines pure and connected was, and The Ancient and Noble house of Black was one of the oldest seven families in Magical Britain – he would not be held responsible for its blood extinction.

Without skipping a beat Arcturus started again. "Under the protectorate of House Black we will hold a naming ceremony for the child in front of the other Ancient and Noble houses, to do anything else is an attack on the honour of the child; he is of the noblest birth and he is important; despite the treacherous filth that brought him into this world."

"Sirius my boy…" His voice drifted for a moment before he steeled himself. "You will _officially_ take the heirship of house Black just before the naming ceremony, and we'll have an inheritance test performed for the boy as well." His voice came out firm there was no room to argue with him.

"What can I do to help, Grandfather?"

"As of now? Nothing. Just decide on a name for the child. It must have _meaning_ Grandson. He is a member of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter, and a protectorate of the Most Ancient and Noble house of Black. Silly simple names like James, David, or Harold will not do. It must speak of his origins, it must speak of us. His middle name shall be of our ways. His first however, Sirius my boy, it is paramount."

Sirius was not sure if he should preen with pride, or groan at the pressure that had been placed upon him. But this was a noble cause, and he knew he must carry this burden with pride. "I understand the gravity of the task you have given me, Grandfather."

Arcturus looked at his grandson, and soon to be heir, with pride. "I never doubted you my boy. I knew you would come around. Even the best of us would have needed to take some time after being raised by a mother like yours." Arcturus' lips curled into a smirk. "Sometimes, I dare to believe that your father has only faked his death, to escape that woman."

Both of the men exchanged deep and rich laughs at that statement.

The two men continued like that late into the night. They had much work to do before the morning arrived. Letters had to be written, bank managers contacted, and official notices written for the Daily Prophet. Throughout the night many owls took wing from the countryside manor, spreading out in many different directions. The six largest owls headed for the Lords of the other Ancient and Noble houses, and the quickest toward Gringots.

Tomorrow would be a busy day indeed.

 **A/N:** Hope you all enjoyed, any feedback is appreciated. **  
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	3. A Crown as Black as Night (Part I)

Edited March 17/2018

A/N:

On time this time! I hope everyone enjoys reading the Cursed Child, it came out just a few hours ago. I hope my copy arrives soon!

Please enjoy, feel free to review and let me know what you like/dislike.

Chapter Three: A Crown as Black as Night

Diagon Alley was sluggish as the Black family marched from the designated travelling point toward Gringotts, the the Alley's only bank. Debris was still scattered around the Alley, and some of the damage from the night before was still visible on the face of some storefronts.

"It seems that the shopkeepers have some work cut out for them." Analise's comment received nods of agreement from both Arcturus and Sirius, but neither of the men at either side of her spoke.

Sirius stood at her right holding the small child closely to his chest, he felt strangely protective of the child. The boy was wrapped elegantly in a wool blanket with an outer blanket of black acromantula silk. The boy would be safe, he was safe with them.

The rest of the small family unit were dressed elegantly in blacks, greys, and silvers. The three made for quite an imposing sight. They all stood above average height, and were renowned for their skill and mercilessness with a wand, as all Blacks were; even Sirius who had been alienated from the family for quite some time. Lord and Lady Black looked particularly imposing with their trained, cold demeanors.

It was no surprise that they arrived at their destination uninterrupted save for a single photograph taken by a staff member of the Daily Prophet that had happened to be passing by. He had quickly scurried away when Lord Black turned to glare at him.

The three imposing figures walked up the steps of the bank and were allowed access without issue by the goblin warriors that guarded the door. Arcturus lead the group directly to the back of the bank's hall where an old goblin sat at a high and ornately carved stone desk. The desk was made of the same stone as the floor it and looked like it had grown up from the floor to be there.

"Hello my friend. I believe you are expecting us." Arcturus did not wait for the Goblin to look up at him. He simply spoke before passing the goblin a note he had received from his account manager late in the night confirming their appointment for this morning.

The goblin glimpsed at the note in passing. "Just a moment, House Black." The Goblin walked at a surprisingly quick pace through two doors that seemed well defended. He was gone only a few moments before he emerged and motioned for them to go on through a wide set of doors to his left. "I believe you know where you're going, Lord Black."

Arcturus did not speak but he nodded an affirmative before continuing down the hall beyond the strongly reinforced doors. He did not knock on the door or wait to be let in, he simple moved forward toward his goal. Sirius remembered reading that Goblin's did not share a lot of ideas of "normal" with wizards where it concerned manners and punctuality. In fact, he could remember a lesson he had received from his own father many years ago. "When dealing with the Goblins son, remember to always be perfectly on time and not to use those manners that you might feel inclined to use in front of your grandparents, or the Lord and Lady of another house – Goblins have little time for such plea…" The sound of his father's voice lecturing him droned on inside his head drifting off as he stepped into the office and took a seat, still holding the child close to his chest.

"Manager Garnuk, I trust that you have the necessary materials prepared?"

"Indeed Lord Black, indeed. The paperwork is all prepared, and the ritual kit has already been stocked and placed in the ritual chamber." The Goblin spoke with a slight accent that made it difficult to understand some of the softer consonants in the English language. "You'll find the formal paperwork necessary to name your grandson Heir of the Ancient and Noble house of Black directly in front of you" the old Goblin waved at the desk where a leather binder sat facing the guest chairs on the other side of the Goblin's desk.

Arcturus didn't say anything before picking up the papers and reviewing them. His face was a mask of stone. Occasionally he would flourish a quill over the papers, signing or initialing to verify specific clauses or stipulations. The entire party sat in silence while he completed his work.

Not long later, Arcuturs finished the document with a large and ornate signature at the very bottom of the document and by smearing his blood, drawn from a quick cut to his thumb, over the signature. He passed the document to Sirius who, perhaps childishly, trustingly, or a mixture of both, only signed the documents and similarly smeared his own blood over the signature. But Arcturus was not surprised, he had expected that his grandson might do such a thing.

"It is done then, congratulations Lord and Heir Black." The goblin sat calmly behind the heavy oak desk watching the situation before it.

Arcturus reached into his robe pocket and fumbled for a moment, as if the pocket was many times larger than the robe could possibly allow for. And of course, it was. His face lightened just a little as he pulled out a small black box. The box showed no seam and had tiny intricate carvings of stars and other celestial bodies carved into its surface and inlaid with what appeared to be a highly polished back stone. Sirius knew it on sight to be obsidian, or at least something he had always assumed to be obsidian. He had seen it frequently in his youth, the Black family used in its artifacts and rituals to imbibe their magic.

Arcturus handed the box to Sirius who took it in an outstretched palm. When it touched his palm Sirius felt the magic of the Black family, rich within this box, reach out and touch his own magic – his soul. It was like twin cables of ice and fire shot up through his arm and into his heart - but the sensation ended as if it had never happened at all.

The box, however had cooled significant, and split itself open revealing two halves. Inside was a white gold ring inlaid with a fairly large cut of the same black stone. It was impossibly smooth and the white gold seemed to fuse seamlessly into the stone itself and then seep through it, framing it with markings of celestial bodies and great stars that seemed to be burning within the stone itself. Sirius knew somehow that the star in the dead center of the ring was Sirius, the star he was born under and named for.

No one said anything but all eyes in the room were focused on the impressive gift that the family's magic had bestowed to its new heir.

"It seemed that I was not mistaken, grandson. Your father would be most proud, that is quite the vote of confidence you have received from out family's magic there." Arcturus looked at his grandson with warm respectful eyes.

Sirius gulped and dared to take a deep slow breath. He never realized it, but he had been holding his breath while examining the ring.

The ring snapped the deepest cold for a fraction of a moment as he slid it onto his ring finger. The cold was deeper and darker than anything Sirius had ever known. As cold as the darkness that separated the stars. He felt empowered at the thought and exhilarated by the darkness like never before.

Just a moment had gone by before Sirius' grandfather's voice cut in again and snapped him out of his dazed state. "The protectorate papers now Garnuk, if you don't mind."

The goblin slid the papers over with ease. Arcturus had actually written the contract last night himself with Sirius, but for it to be legally binding in the eyes of the Wizenmangot the goblins had to technically craft the contact. Both men quickly signed off on the document.

"You'll need to smear a drop of the babe's blood on this paper, but we'll also need a more significant amount for his inheritance test. Are you sure –"

The goblin's caution was thrown out, surprisingly, by Analise.

"He is a strong child, it will be of no harm to him." Her voice was firm and assertive, but also reassuring. Neither of the men, nor the goblin, dared to argue with her.

"As you wish, Lady Black. Arcturus, the honor of taking the child's blood falls to you as the most elderly member of an Ancient and Noble house present, and as his future protectorate." The goblin gestured toward a small shallow black stone bowl that was placed on top of a piece of golden parchment.

"You'll need to fill the bowl half way with the child's blood, we'll only need to smear the wound on the protectorate document after that." The goblin's face betrayed no emotion or interest as he instructed them.

Sirius handed the sleeping child to his grandfather, knowing instinctively that he could trust the man. Such rituals had occurred many times before.

Arcturus laid the child in his lap and reached into the fabric that swaddled him, so that he could slowly coax the babe's hand out. With extreme care he guided a razor-sharp silver blade across the baby's small palm. The child did not fuss much, making only a quiet whining sound of discomfort at the pain. Arcturus held the child's palm over the small black bowl to let it fill part of the way up.

As soon as they had taken all they needed, and smeared a drop on the protectorate document, Analise took the child into her own arms. She muttered spells as she traced her long elegant ivy wand over the small wound, serving to comfort the child and mend his wound at the same time. The babe remained silent and gurgled happily at Analise as she coddled him and spoke to him.

"The child is remarkably calm," Garnuk said as he carefully placed the shallow bowl back atop of the golden parchment.

Arcturus only nodded an affirmative again, watching over the child carefully.

"The inheritance test will take some time to complete, but it should be finished before the child is formally named. We will have it brought in, in an enchanted scroll to the priest or priestess conducting the ceremony – would you like to avail of Gringott's services for this? We have several credible persons o-."

Analise cut in again, her voice firm as usual, but kind. "That will not be necessary Garnuk, I'm an accomplished priestess in the old ways."

The goblin appeared thoroughly chastised. "Forgive me, my lady, I was not aware."

Analise looked up from the baby once more for just a moment "It is not something that I advertise, so no, I would not expect you to."

Garnuk simply nodded. "Heir Black, as you are the legal guardian of the child, it is up to you to name the boy. You will write his name on the top of this golden parchment and then tap your wand on the edge of the bowl to begin the ritual.

Sirius nodded and wrote the name carefully on the top of the parchment in a stylish script. They had discussed many choices for the name last night, and what naming rituals they were bound to abide by. They had never made a final decision, but Arcturus trusted Sirius in this matter, as long as he acted within the parameters he had outlined.

After Sirius had wrote it Arcturus glanced down and nodded in contentment. "I approve, grandson. A name worthy of a king. If there is nothing else Garnuk? I believe it is time we leave for the ritual chamber. The other ancient and noble houses ought to have gathered by now."

"Yes, let us." Analise rose to her feet elegantly, coddling the now sleeping babe.

The two men rose behind her and followed her out of the room. The three nobles strode down the hall, somehow an even more imposing sight than before. Their faces were all coached into a calm demeanor as the descended the long spiraling stairs that the goblins had carved into the stone under the bank. On the inside, however, Sirius was panicking. How was he supposed to face his two best friends again? And after he had rescued their child? Did they even know what he had done?

After some time travelling downward they arrived in an eloquent receiving hall. This is where the regular noble houses would have to wait, only Ancient and Noble houses were welcomed into the chamber itself. Of course, as this was a private event no noble houses were even invited. It would only be the highest elite of their society welcomed into this ritual.

All three members of the Black family steeled themselves before they passed through the large iron wrought doors and into the ritual chamber. Eleven witches and wizards stood in small groups near the entrance of the hall. The hall's ceiling was incredibly high up and made the relatively small circular room seem cavernous. The floor was a mosaic depicting magical history. It swirled out around a round bowl-shaped altar in the center of the chamber. Runes were inlaid into the floor, offering dividing bars for the mosaic as it swirled outward to meet the walls. The images in the mosaic blurred together, the most vibrant being the most recent that were closer to the center. The ability to read the strange runes had been lost long ago, but interpretation was made possible through the pictures contained in the mosaic.

"It's simply a pleasure to see you again Analise, Arcturus!" A tall witch with blood-red coloured hair greeted the Black family as they walked into the room. "Oh and Sirius! My, how you've grown!"

"Alena! Oh it's been too long, I haven't seen you since Arcturus' birthday!" Analise smiled warmly at her good friend, Lady Alena Bones.

"Marus, well met brother." Arcturus reached out his arm and the two men grabbed each others forearms firmly. Marus was Arcturus' closest friend, ally, and confidant. The man stood just as tall and imposing as Arcturus. His high cheekbones were accentuated by hair that was whiter than the most valuable ivory. His hair was pulled back behind his ears and the perfectly straight white strands ran down his back between his shoulders.

"Aye Arcturus, I assume this is why our meeting was cut short last evening?" Marus's eyes looked over at the neatly wrapped fabric that Analise held in her arms.

"Indeed, indeed. It was quite the evening Marus, quite the evening indeed." Arcturus' voice hinted at something without coming outright and saying anything. Marus picked up on it and his eyes began to sparkle in anticipation.

Before either of the men could speak again another man walked up to make himself known, thus interrupting them.

"Garrick! I'm so pleased you could make it. I hope the storm last night has not damaged your shop too badly, that would be such a shame."

"Oh nothing too serious Arcturus. We were prepared for such an occasion." Garrick Ollivander's wise eyes crinkled slightly as he smiled warmly. "Sirius, it is nice to see that you have taken up your houses' responsibilities. Have you met my grandson and heir, Rickon?"

"I cannot say that I have, Lord Ollivander, I finished Hogwarts when he was still a first year. Never had much interaction really, especially as we were in different houses." Sirius turned to Rickon this time, who had appeared at the side of his Grandfather. "I hear you have quite the aptitude for Herbology, Rickon. You have an apprenticeship with professor Sprout if I'm not mistaken?"

"You are correct Sirius. And a second with Grandfather, it is our hope, of course, that I will one day take over the responsibilities of the family business." Rickon spoke smoothly but not in the extremely even and precise way that the Lords spoke. He was a young heir, and with time he would develop the necessary skills. Sirius of course had been started early, before the falling out he had with his parents. Now his decorum was passable, though anything but ideal.

"Well it would be such a shame if Britain lost its most valuable wand making family, I applaud your efforts, young man." Said a new voice, that came from a large burly man.

"Brontus, I'm glad you made time to join us." Arcturus drawled, his voice precise, even, and diplomatic. His face was schooled into a tight neutral smile.

"Nonsense Arcturus, you may be a dark family but that would be no reason for House Longbottom to shirk the responsibilities that the Ancient ones hold to one another."

"Indeed. Speaking of shirking responsibilities, I don't suppose you have seen the Potters? Or the Weasleys for that matter?" Arcturus's face remained calm but his voice held a promise, or threat, of retribution for the dishonor that the other two light families where showing his house.

"The Potters just gave birth to a son, Arcturus! Surely you do not expect them to be here this morning!" Brontus' wife, Augusta's voice was shrill and rubbed Arcturus' patience the wrong way.

"Oh, silly us. Whatever was I thinking, an official summons by a fellow ancient house is, after all, nothing more than a casual invitation to tea" Analise said in a nonchalant voice.

Brontus furrowed his eyebrows and was about to speak again before a ruckus interrupted them

"I told you that you were going to make me late if I took you Charlie..." The noise was coming from what sounded like two individuals rushing to make it down the stairs.

Two orange haired wizards ran into the chamber, slightly out of breath. The oldest instantly stopped and began straightening his robes. He steeled himself and then proceeded the walk calmly, further into the chamber. The young one however remained out of breath and stood in place a few moments to steady himself.

"Lord Black, I apologize for our lack of punctuality. I was forced last minute to take my brother along, I hope that is alright. My father sends his regrets, of course."

"Yes, of course he does, young Heir Weasley" Analise smiled at the young man, intentionally forgetting that Lord Weasley had never cared much for the ancient ways and constantly shirked his responsibilities in all areas bar the Wizenmangot, where he was a thorn in the side of her husband.

"At least you bothered to show up, unlike some others." Her voice was sweet but underplayed with a threat for anyone to challenge her.

"I believe we should begin, now that we are all here." Arcturus' voice rose above all of the conversation in the chamber ending them quickly without much fuss.

"Yes Arcturus, do tell us why we have been called from our homes." As Brontus spoke a goblin appeared, seemingly out of nowhere, and carried a sealed golden scroll to Lady Black. She accepted the scroll from the goblin who bowed to her and left promptly.

Analise began speaking loudly and clearly, from her position in the center of the chamber. "We have summoned the descendants of the ancient ones for a naming ceremony. A child of greatness has been born, and as he has none that speak for him directly he will be named and protected by the Blacks, before all of the ancient ones, as was tradition for all of our birth."

Most of the witches and wizards in the crowd looked somewhat confused. The Longbottoms grumbled and looked annoyed about having been called for such an old and archaic practice as a naming ceremony. Lord Bones however, smiled in excitement. He knew that Arcturus would have a good reason for doing this, and that it would likely have major implications for their alliance.

"While we are aware that this is somewhat of an antiquated practice, we can assure you that this ritual is entirely necessary. All will be made clear as the ritual progresses." Arcturus' voice was authoritative and steady. "I defer now to my wife, Priestess Analise, who will be conducting the ritual.

"I ask that those representing their house stand in their appointed positions. All other members of families are asked to stand in the outer ring of the chamber while the ritual is conducted." Analise's voice was formal as she issued the commands. She held the child closely in one arm and held the golden scroll in the other.

Everyone did as requested while Lord Black, Lord Bones, Lord Ollivander, Lord Longbottom, and Heir Weasley stood around the central altar of the chamber.

"The Chamber recognizes Houses Ollivander, Weasley, Longbottom, Bones, and its host, House Black. It notes that House Peverell is excused as it is currently dormant, and notes the infraction of House Potter for not appearing as summoned by an Ancient one." Analise's voice held a strange tone to it as she intoned the words.

"House Black has assembled the ancient ones for the purpose of a naming ceremony for its protectorate." Analise placed the small child in the center of the bowl-shaped altar. It was completely naked with the exception of a grey coloured sheet of silk to protect its decency. She placed the golden scroll just above the babe's head after it settled on its back, then she placed her hands on the rim of the altar.

"As a priestess of magic, I so begin the naming ceremony for the protectorate of House Black." Her voice held the same strange tone as she spoke the words.

"House Black invites its peers to participate in the naming of its protectorate" Arcturus intoned, inviting the other members of the ancient and noble houses to do as he did and place their hands on the rim of the altar.

"House Bones recognizes the veracity of its call." Lord Marus Bones intoned, he too placing his hands on the bowled Altar.

He was promptly followed by Lord Ollivander, Heir Weasley, and a reluctant Lord Longbottom.

"Young one, we welcome you into the circle of ancient blood upon which the Magic of the British isles rests." Analise's voice held an almost unhuman quality now.

A silver ring of energy circled the Altar, linking through each of the house's representatives.

Heir Weasley's eyes popped open in shock, staring at the ring of magic that encircled them. He had never been witness to a naming ritual. Several others in attendance were similarly amazed, having forgotten many the old ways that once governed their kind.

"We welcome you child, storm born…" Several people in the room raised their eyes at this title that Lady Black bestowed upon the child "… to the ranks of the Ancient Ones. May your blood run pure, and your magic flow strong." The silver ring tightened around them until it wrapped around just the rim of the altar.

Analise's hands moved from the rim of the altar to the take the golden scroll she had placed above the head of the child. "We accept you child" Analise broke the seal on the scroll "into the Ancient and Noble House of Black" she unrolled the scroll.

"Born to house Potter" the eyes of almost every person in the room save the Bones' and Black's shot open "you were thrown from their home, second born, storm born, and unwelcomed in their halls. They disgrace you further by not only rejecting you, but also not appearing for your nameship" The silver ring intensified and the strange quality in Analise's voice continued to gain the strange inhuman, almost metallic, quality.

"Child, we bestow upon you the name of Noctis for the way you came to us, a gift in, and of, the night. And Vega, a mark of the house that shelters you, and a sign of your inevitable greatness. Your blood indicates you are in line to the Ancient and Noble House of Black, second in line for the Ancient and Noble House of Potter…" Analise paused for just a moment, a single sparkle delighting her eye "… and so proclaimed by the Goddess, Lord, under regency, of the once lost Ancient and Noble house of Peverell."

Analise had to use every ounce of her self-control not to react after she spoke the last line of the inheritance sheet. She had known something was afoot, but had never imagined this scenario.

Everyone in the chamber seemed about as surprised as she was on the inside, surprised enough to forget that he was also born to the Potters. Lord Longbottom looked particularly taken aback, almost insulted, by the news. Arcturus, perhaps a credit to himself, was too stunned to react physically.

"I welcome you, Lord Noctis Vega Peverell, storm born, to the realm of magic and the ranks of the ancient ones." With a steady hand Analise reached into the ritual kit that was under the altar in a simple wooden box. It took her a moment but she finally found what she was looking for, a vial of black liquid that reflecting light in silver shimmering waves.

Analise held the vial above the child. "As the Ancient ones did, so too do we today. Noctis Vega Peverell, storm born, we grant you the honor of your birthright. A crown so black that the night feels envy, the lifeblood of your houses sigil." Upon the last words she slowly poured the liquid in a circle over the child's head. It made a ring around his head, and ran slightly down the sides, creating what looked eerily resembled a twisted sort of upside-down crown upon the child's head.

The silver ring of magic that had been present throughout the ceremony compressed even further and made itself one with the crown of black liquid that dawned the child's head. The circlet and the crown flashed for a moment before both the magic and the black crown disappeared into the child's skin.

Brontus Longbottom was the first to leave the Altar. He separated his hands from the basin and turned quickly from the other lords. The rest of the Lords were content to stare at the child in wonder.

"Come along family, we will not remain here a moment longer than we have to." Brontus's tone was dark and angry as he stormed out the doors of the chamber and was followed quickly by his wife, and his eldest daughter, Rosemirth, who had remained quiet the entire time.

The eldest Weasley looked perplexed. He stared at the child with a mixture of confusion and awe. "Was that – was it…"

"It was thestral blood, willingly given, yes. Analise looked at the redheaded heir with a calm look on her face. "Every Peverell child has been anointed with thestral blood, dating back to the dawn of their ancient line."

Bill paled slightly. He knew about the anointment rituals that each of the ancient houses held, he had just never imagined that he'd see this particular kind. There are not been a Lord Peverell for centuries, they were believed lost forever.

"He will wear the mantle well. You can see greatness in the boy's eyes. He will be a force to be reckoned with, long before any of us are prepared for him I expect." Marus Bones seemed both excited and wary at the revelations he'd just been privy to.

"What say you Garrick? Your house has remained quiet as of yet." Arcturus turned to the old wizened man. His look was followed by the rest of those whom remained in the chamber.

"A most curious child. And likely to be a challenging customer when I am graced with his presence in my shop. You'll have to keep me apprised of his going-ons Arcturus. I'd like to follow this boy most closely."

"Certainly Garrick, it would be my pleasure." Arcturus' lips had finally twisted into a satisfied smile.

Great things were to come. He could feel it in the very core of his soul.

The families had all dispersed from the ritual chamber fairly quickly. The Weasley boys were the first to travel up the stairs after the rude departure of the Longbottoms. They were followed not long after by the Ollivander's, and finally the the Black and Bones families departed together as the close allies always did.

"Arcturus, you do realize what this means, don't you?" Marus spoke in a hushed but excited tone.

"Of course I do, my friend, we have been granted a gift from the fates themselves Marus." The two men smiled wickedly at one another, like kids on Christmas. Their two wives simply rolled their eyes and made plans for the dinner parties and balls that were sure to follow. They obviously knew the significance of what had just happened, but they also knew they would be excluded from most of the scheming. Their husbands were up to something, as they always were, and they would have to be prepared for the battles that were sure to come; the two made a dangerous pair.

Analise smiled down at the babe who slept again in a bundle of fabrics. "The balance has been restored, little one. And it is all thanks to you."

A/N:

There you have it, chapter three. I hope I did the naming ceremony justice. I will almost certainly come back and edit it. (And will indicate in an author's note when I do so). Thanks for your reviews, favorites, and follows, I take notice of and appreciate each and every one of them.


	4. Dark Tide (Part I)

**Edit Note:  
** I removed one sentence that would have became a plot hole.

 **A/N:  
** What did everyone think of Cursed Child? Sorry this is late, I've been preparing for a big move.

 **Chapter Four: Dark Tide**

An old man with a long white beard sat at his desk in the ministry of magic and smoked a short black pipe filled with a strange looking herb. The smoke rings he exhaled floated to the top of the high rounded ceiling creating a large cloud that refused to dissipate. The large magical window that composed the entire back wall of his office did not depict the usual merry and relaxed scene of a sunny meadow, but instead a craggy rock shore with crashing waves and the thick dark clouds of a brewing storm.

His face was twisted into a rare mask of anger and his eyes were pointed like daggers at the newspaper in front of him. It was totally uncharacteristic for the man, who often wore a grandfatherly smile coupled with warm and twinkling eyes. Yes, Albus Dumbledore was indeed quite angry.

The man turned again to the newspaper that was the subject of his ire. It had been left on his desk that morning as it was every morning by his assistant. "Ancient and Noble House of Black Adopts Child." The headline blared in large bold font on the front page of the Daily Prophet. Just below the headline was a picture of the family unit walking imposingly down Diagon Alley. He felt his jaw tighten and fist close involuntarily as he looked at the picture.

He growled again and waved his hand at the newspaper; fire spread out from the centre of the paper and it was quickly engulfed, reduced to ash without disturbing anything else on the large and cluttered desk. He blew the ash away with a deep exhale, much of the ash to blew into his long white beard tarnishing it, making it just a little greyer.

"Thrice be damned dark heathens" the man muttered. He had been working to exterminate their kind for over a century and they were _still_ a thorn in his side. Gods how he hated the accursed Dark families, and the Blacks in particular; Arcturus Black had always been out to get him, not to mention his little puppet Marus – the pair had never ceased to be a thorn in his side. And Arcturus' grandson Sirius was a fool, so easily manipulated that it almost made him laugh.

"Good for nothing Arcturus _bloody_ Black that sadistic deceitful po-"

His ill-tempered grumbling was interrupted by a knock on the door. He gazed at the door lazily and pulled at the wards he had set up with an absent flick of his wand. The wards recognized Arthur Weasley immediately.

"Enter, Arthur." The old man called. His tone was tired and promised danger for any who dared to waste his time.

One of the large thick doors that served as the main entrance to Dumbledore's office creaked open quickly. "Thank you Minister, hot day isn't it?" The red headed man that came into the office wearing a grey muggle suit. His hair was short, reaching just down to the top of his ears. His pudgy frame was disguised by the suit, but most importantly - he did not look the part of Lord of the Ancient and Noble house of Weasley. He looked more like a muggle insurance salesman.

"I've told you before Arthur. We are friends, you can call me Albus." The man smiled gently at his ally and confidant who nodded in acceptance. He closed the thick wooden door and then walked further into the large and lavishly decorated office. Dumbledore motioned to one of the chairs in front of his desk and Arthur took a seat. The winged chair was overly padded, done with garishly red upholstery.

Dumbledore's own chair was more like a throne with its rich looking red velvet upholstery and gold-coloured wood. The chair's high back tapered up into a peak that was marked with a delicate carving of a flame, sitting just above the old man's head. The chair was practically regal.

"Yes minis- Albus." The redhead corrected himself with a tone of finality. He took a moment as he wiggled around in the large plush chair, making himself comfortable. He finally relaxed with a soft sigh ands fake looking gentle smile as he folded one knee over the other and clasped his hands together over them.

"I presume you are here because of today's news?" Dumbledore's tone sounded calm, granted the relaxed nature of the visit, but his eyes were an angry steel blue; they were almost acidic in their twinkling while he spoke. They often reminded the subjects of his ire of balls of blue flame.

"Of course I am, Lord Longbottom came to me the moment they named the whelp. He was furious, and I certainly cannot say I blame him!" Arthur's voice held the tone of a scandal while also hinting at his anger, the fake smile he had originally painted onto his face had barely lasted a moment. "And of course Bill or and Charlie wouldn't give me any details about the babe, if father hadn't publicly named Bill second in line before he died I would have disinherited that boy ages ago!" He sounded cold and unforgiving as he spoke about his eldest son whose defiance of his father was practically famous.

Albus' brow furrowed at the extent Arthur's anger. He himself was mad, yes; furious even! But, but he was mad because he knew that the child the Blacks had so arrogantly abducted had a rich potential for darkness and a strong magical core; the child had reminded him of a cold dark ocean. He shivered at the memory. But he did not know why Longbottom and Weasley were so furious. The two men were not present for his birth so there was no way they had seen the boy's magical core. He doubted anyone else had seen the boy's core, perhaps with the exception of the Blacks. He would have to navigate this conversation closely to extract the red Lord's secrets. If Arthur believed he already knew his secrets then he could not be held responsible for betraying Ancient and Noble information to a lower house.

"Indeed Arthur, this child is a curse on our race." His tone was careful and even, in the same angry tone he had already used – made easy because his anger was genuine. It served its purpose and the enraged Lord Weasley continued ranting. His voice growing louder and his words quickening, he was building into a temper and his face was growing to match his hair. "The little beast is going to completely upturn the balance in the Wizenmangot, they must have faked that damn inheritance test, of course they did there is no way that child is heir to any extinct magical line, if I hadn't known better I'd have said he was the bastard son of Sirius and one of his whores."

Dumbledore reeled internally. Extinct magical line? It couldn't be true… could it? The child's insidiously dark magic, and the strength of it… He hadn't thought the child was _that_ much of a threat. He would have turned around in the forest and killed the brat if he had known that. Albus felt a panicked sweat break out on his forehead, he was immobilized by fear. 'I should have known, I should have known magic that dark, that deep… and that storm. I should have seen the signs.' His internal panic distracted him from Arthur's incessant rambling.

"Those greedy little imps must be working with them all they care about is gold and everyone knows that Arcturus is wealthy beyond anyone's imagination. He's probably bribing the grubby little stone rats." Arthur spat the last words; he was no friend to the goblin nation, or any race of magical creatures for that matter.

Dumbledore did his best to maintain his calm disposition, he needed to distract Arthur. "They are treacherous little beasts, aren't they? We will have to stop the Dark families of course!" Arthur continued ranting but Dumbledore wasn't able to listen to the man, he was barely even paying attention and had no idea who had just insulted because of his own private meltdown.

"Has Lord Longbottom developed a plan yet?" He immediately cut off the redheaded Lord when the thought appeared in his mind. He knew that most likely Brontus hadn't, the man was not the most intelligent of wizards. Of course, the man might have hatched some half-brained scheme all the same. Dumbledore made a note to keep an eye on Lord Longbottom. But if the man was plotting something, he could ride the waves the man created.

"He has shared a few ideas with me… He is particularly interested in destroying the boy's inheritance of course, which is probably the easiest course of action but we are not sure if Lord Potter will comply, and then Lord Ollivander is a whole other question, he is very unlikely to vote in favour of our motion, but we may be able to convince him to abstain… he is such a traditionalist that it is unlikely he would stand for such an affront to the _ancient balance_ or some such nonsense..." Arthur said the last couple words with a mocking tone; his disrespect for the ways of the ancient seven was clear.

Arthur's voice prattled on with political scenarios that would allow them to destroy the babe's inheritance. 'I should have killed the little bastard the moment he exited the womb, or killed him when I left him in the forest'. Dumbledore cursed himself inside his head and swore to never make such a foolish mistake again. His mercy had always been his downfall, it would always be as long as the Blacks were there to exploit it.

"Work with Lord Longbottom to eliminate the line." Dumbledore spoke with a finite tone that left no question to the instructions he had given the younger man.

"Politically sir?" there was a pregnant pause as Lord Weasley looked at Dumbledore win a severe gaze.

"Any means necessary. He must not be allowed to take his place in the Wizenmangot." Dumbledore returned Arthur's severe gaze as the red headed man got up from his chair and turned toward the door. Once it had opened he turned back to Dumbledore. "Of course minister, I'll have the report on your desk before the end of the month." Dumbledore's mask of benevolence that he showed the public made its way back onto his face.

"That's wonderful Arthur!" Dumbledore's voice held a falsely cheerful tone almost as artificial as the expression on his face. "Oh and Arthur? Send that bumbling fool Cornelius into me. He forgot to bring me my paper again this morning." Arthur chuckled at Corneilius' expense.

"I swear I simply cannot get a good assistant since Ms. Jorkins died!" Dumbledore's tone spoke of a protracted and exhausted annoyance but not the deep anger that it had earlier. He was just loud enough for the room outside to hear him, and likely send Cornelius into a panic.

"Mr. Fudge, I believe the minister would like to see you! Something about his news paper." Arthur called the words out while searching the reception area for the man. He spotted him instantly with his tacky green bowler hat. The man paled visibly as he walked toward the door, noticeably confused as he had delivered the paper just a few hours ago.

Arthur left the room with a final nod to Dumbledore.

Things had been much calmer at the Black estate. They had had a busy day signing papers at Gringotts and making preparations to move Sirius and Noctis into the estate permanently. Arcturus had spent some time bargaining with Lord Malfoy about _something_ and neither Analise or Sirius knew why. Arcturus had simply assured them that he would let them know when he was successful. Analise and Sirius had accepted the news quietly and left for Diagon Alley. They made their rounds to the shops with little Noctis wrapped in the same Acromantula silk and wool blankets that he had been the day before.

They had made several stops that day in shops and spent a great deal of gold, but they now had a full stock to place in Noctis' nursery.

The evening seemed to come quickly, which found Analise and Sirius preparing for the dinner party Arcturus had invited their friends, allies, and partners to.

"Sirius darling, these new robes look absolutely wonderful on you! You look so distinguished, just like your grandfather when he and I met." Analise fussed over Sirius' dress robes as they stood in the family parlour getting ready for the evening's dinner party. His robes were a dark gray colour with black trim. Long sleeves that hanged from his wrists but did not obstruct his hand's range of motion, and the bottom hem of the robe swept just above the floor. They dressed his tall slim frame well. On his finger sat his Black family heirship ring. He did not wear his family chain around his neck this evening as he would not be leaving the estate – instead his eloquently cut robes showed off the smooth unblemished pale skin of his neck. His hair was tied back tightly with a strip of black leather completing the look. They looked similar in fact, the only differences being that Analise's robes were cut considerably lower and her hair had been pinned up instead of drawn back.

The parlour was a dark room decorated with dark varnished walnut and shades of black. The comfortable but elegant furniture had silver-grey upholstery and there was a large bay window that overlooked a forest of humongous trees.

The view didn't look like it belonged to England, a Black ancestor several centuries ago had the trees imported trees from all over the world, both magical and mundane. The trees created a dense and dark forest of humongous trunks with a thick multi-coloured and multi layered canopy. The family's forest was as famous as it was large, and was rumoured to contain some species believed extinct elsewhere.

"Thank you grandmother, but I feel like a trained dog in these stiff robes." Sirius cracked a grin as his grandmother snorted, a rare occurrence, in laughter. They often shared moments like these when out of the public eye. Not that anyone would believe him, but he had inherited his gift of comedy from his grandmother.

"I'll never manage to train you Sirius, I've come to accept that. The best I can dare to desire is the occasional bath and grooming." Their continued laughter lit both of their faces.

"Oh yes, that reminds me. We've converted the room between our suit of rooms and yours own into a nursery for Noctis, he can stay there, close by, until he gets old enough to desire his own space and privacy."

Sirius smiled warmly in response to his grandmother. He was happy that she had taken a keen interest in caring for the boy.

"Oh, that reminds me. We've assigned this lovely young elf to him, he's only a few years old so Noctis can always have him on hand. Your grandfather bought from the Malfoys. That must have been the business his grandfather was referring to. Sirius' face instantly dropped thinking of the way that Malfoys treated their elves but before he had a chance to argue his grandmother started again. "Come now, don't make that face. The elf is young and the Malfoys had very little interaction with him."

Analise swatted Sirius on the head as he pulled a face at the name Malfoy.

"I don't like the way that Abraxas and Lucius handle their elves either Sirius, you know that." She chastised him gently, her exasperation toward her grandson clear.

"Besides, do you want Krasus, or even worse, Kreacher caring for him?" Analise raised an eyebrow as she asked Sirius the rhetorical question. "You have to meet the new elf Sirius, he's just darling!"

Sirius made another face at his grandmother.

"Sirius Arcturus Black, you will give this elf a chance at the very least, and you will show respect for the Malfoy family – at least while we are in public. Your cousin Narcissa married Lord Malfoy's heir." Analise was lecturing him with both hands on her hips, he tone was dangerously impatient.

"A marriage that their family was not worthy of -"

"Sirius! You know full well that the Malfoys are a highborn family, yes they are not as prestigious of us but they are an acceptable family and hold considerable wealth, she will be well cared for and she will be a powerful witch." Her tone grew less sharp and Sirius' posture changed from resistant to defeated.

"Fine, gran. I promise to be polite to the pompous blondes." Analise accepted Sirius' promise, knowing that it was likely the best she would be able to extract from the man.

"Now, meet Dobby." Analise reverted back to her cheery self instantly.

Just a moment after Analise said the elf's name he appeared in front of them. He wore a navy blue pillow case that someone had shrunken down for him to be more formfitting. "Lady Black is calling Dobby ma'am?" the young elf asked. His too-large eyes stared up at the two adults with admiration.

"We're just checking in Dobby dear, how is little Noctis?" Analise spoke warmly to the little elf, who in turn flushed from the kindness.

"Little Black Master is fine Mistress Lady Black ma'am. He is currently being asleep and Dobby is not waking him." Dobby's voice was high and excited and he bounced in place.

Sirius smiled, instantly liking the pleasant and energetic elf. "Dobby, do you like caring for Noctis?" Sirius asked the young elf with a serious tone, he was a little concerned that such a young elf wouldn't be able to handle such a small child.

"Dobby likes caring for Black Master and Black Master seems to be liking Dobby. He bes sleeping a lot of the time but Dobby is not minding because Dobby cleans little Black Master's room and clothes. And little Black Master is quiet when he is awake and we bes playing ears!"

Both adults just looked at the elf in confusion when he talked about playing 'ears'. "That's great Dobby, take good care of him" Sirius smiled down at the elf, relieved that he was nothing like the elf he had grown up with, Krasus. Sure this little elf was a bit strange, but he wasn't vile and he seemed competent. Krasus' son seemed worse if he was being honest.

"Of course Dobby will be well-ly taking care of little Black Master." Dobby nodded vigorously the entire time he was speaking.

"We know you will Dobby. Dobby we'll be hosting a dinner party this evening, please let Sirius or myself know if Noctis needs for anything, or if you need anything." Analise's voice was kind and gentle as she made the offer to the young to the young elf.

"Lady Black Ma'am is being too kind. Too kind to Dobby." The little elf looked reverently up at Analise before disappearing with an almost inaudible pop.

"Quirky little thing, isn't he?" Sirius commented, a light smile still playing on his lips.

"Indeed, but he is intelligent and talented. He is perfect for little Noctis." Analise stated proudly as she fussed over her hair in a mirror she had conjured to float in front of her.

It wasn't long before another elf popped into the room, this one dressed in a grey pillowcase similar to Dobby's. "Tally is to be informing the Lady and Heir that their guests have begun to arrive. Tally will be meeting thems in the receiving room." The elf was considerably taller than Dobby, a consequence of being much older.

"Thank you Tally dear, we will be right down." Analise replied, directing a kind smile at the elf who simply nodded and popped back out of the room.

Sirius took a deep breath to steady his breathing and then steadied his posture. "Are you ready, grandmother?" He asked, extending his hand to her.

Analise walked straight past Sirius' outstretched hand. "Of course I am, get your thumbs out of your arse and quit dilly dallying, come along now!" She wore a smirk on her face as she chastised him.

Sirius chucked and followed quickly behind his grandmother, she had never respected the customs that required the women married into ancient and noble houses to be escorted into events by a male member of the house. It was one of the few customs she paid no heed to. She was a fiercely independent woman, and had always forged her own path.

Dinner was a lively affair. The elves had prepared a large number of dishes for the party to enjoy, ranging from roasted chickens to an ostrich stew. Everyone had eaten merrily and there had been a festive feeling in the room which was appropriate as they were essentially celebrating the birth of a child on the main line.

The formal dining hall of the Black estate was a long room with a high pointed ceiling. The walls of the dining hall were made of a smooth black stone that easily reflected light while the floors were made of what appeared to be highly polished purple heart. The room was windowless as was custom, and the walls held no decorations save for silver mounts that held long white candles. The focal point of the room was of course a large table that stretched the length of the room. It was made of the same dark walnut wood that was found all through the manor. The table was as old as the room itself and it was decorated with meticulously carved flowers and stars. The tabletop itself was covered in a long silver silk table runner with tall white candles burning in silver candelabrums. The chairs on either end of the table were decorated with the same intricate carvings and were upholstered with black silk. The rest of the chairs that ran up and down the sides of the table were relatively simple and upholstered with a matching grey fabric.

The dining hall was filled. Many nobles and wealthy families aligned to the dark had been invited to the celebration. Some were noble houses while others were families of enormous wealth; all the same, they had earned their place around the table of House Black _._ The Bones family were in attendance as they were in every event hosted or attended by the House of Black, as were the Ollivanders, Lovegoods, Malfoys, Rosiers, Lestranges, Malkins, Greengrasses, and Ogdens. The Delacours, a highly esteemed French pureblood family, were even attending, they had been invited since they were Analise's birth family.

"Analise, the goose was simply divine!" Lady Malfoy smiled at her from down the table on her left. They had only just finished up the dinner portion of the social gathering and the party was settled back into their chairs drinking tea and eating deserts.

"I'll be sure to pass along your compliments on to our Chef elf." Analise smiled politely at the woman. Nobody had a chance to say anything else before Arcturus rose to his feet.

"As is customary, I would like to propose a toast." Everyone in the room fell into silence as an elf appeared and began pouring a healthy portion of dark red wine into a glass in front of everyone present. "As you have all likely heard, or as some of you have witnessed" he nodded to the Bones and Ollivander families "House Black as adopted a child as a protectorate. My heir, Sirius, found the child in a time of desperate need and has brought him into our lives." People around the room nodded respectfully.

"This is, of course, the public version of the story." Several faces in the room lit up. Lady Lovegood's eyes sparked with amusement as he spoke, and Marus watched over the crowd carefully, ready to stand and defend his friend in the unlikely chance that someone challenged him.

"As you know, wizards tend to guard their secrets carefully. This is especially true for an Ancient family such as my own" Several people nodded to Arcturus' words this time. "This secret shall need to be safely guarded, and for that reason the wine I have provided to all of you is dosed with a privacy serum, to prevent the information I am about to share, or memories linked to it, from being shared or taken from your minds. You may be more familiar with the serum as obscuring elixir." Several people's brow rose in surprise at Arcturus' words, obscuring elixir was not the easiest substance to get one's hands on.

"I am aware that I am asking a lot of you, but understand my friends, my allies, my partners, that what I am about to tell you warrants the degree of security I am asking for." Arcturus' voice and face had remained calm and sincere the entire time, and he paused just long enough to watch the serving elf pour the final glass of wine.

"I ask now, friends, that we toast to my houses' new protectorate, Noctis Vega." Nobody blinked at Arcturus' decision not to include the last name of the child – they had assumed, of course that Noctis was a Black. Arcturus took a long sip of his own wine before sitting down with an air of finality.

Marus was the first to rise from his seat and rise his glass of dark red wine into the air. "To Noctis" his voice was firm and supportive and he stared at Arcturus with a proud, pleased gaze and drank some of the wine.

Marus was followed silently by Garrick Ollivander who was allotted the next drink by custom of his Ancient and Noble blood. He simply stood, nodded toward Arcturus and then Sirius, before drinking his own wine. Garrick was followed immediately by Analise's family, and then the remainder of the party in order of rank.

Arcturus stood again once everyone in the room had drank the wine provided. "Now, of course, all of the Ancient and Noble families have witnessed the formal reading of the boy's inheritance meaning that Marus, Garrick, and our respective families already know the news I am about to share with you all. But as we all know well, those who witnessed the naming ceremony are honour bound not to reveal the details of the child's birth to any outside the ancient seven until the child's family chooses to do so. Thus, we have gathered all of you here tonight, our closest friends, allies, and partners to share our wonderful news." Arcturus' face had shifted from its usual respectful and reserved posture to one of joy.

"Noctis was born two nights ago, when he was immediately abandoned by his birth family on the advice of Albus Dumbledore." Several people jeered at the name, their faces contorting into anger. Several of the women and young heirs in the room gasped, not being familiar with Albus' history of vicious violence where it concerned dark children. "He was born to a light family, of both Ancient and Noble blood." Arcturus paused again but before the room could escalate any further he spoke louder. "You may be aware, despite their neglect to inform us, that the Potter family birthed an heir last night, Noctis was their second born, the youngest of two sons." The room had descended into a roar of whispers.

Arcturus reached into his robes and pulled the golden scroll that the Goblins had handed Analise during Noctis' naming ritual. "I'm afraid I'll have to ask you all to be patient just a moment longer, as there is more." The party acquiesced, and held their tongues for another moment, everyone sitting on the edge of their seats. "I hold in my hand the results of an inheritance test for the newest addition to the House of Black." Arcturus paused just long enough to scan the faces in the room. "Formally, he has been named Noctis Vega. For the way he came to us, a gift in the night, and the tradition of our family to grant meaningful names we have found from the stars. And finally, he has been named Peverell; for the blood and magic that runs through his veins."

Arcturus watched many faces in the room transition from intrigued, to shocked, to thoughtful. He had after all assembled the majority of the powerful Dark families in wizarding Britain, and even a French family. The birth of a Peverell, the re-emergence of the third Ancient and Noble dark family in Wizarding Britain, and the oldest family at that, would have a large impact on all of their lives.

"I have brought you here to hear this news for reasons that I feel are obvious." Arcturus voice grew louder and increasingly fierce as he spoke. "My friends, this child represents a reckoning for the dark. No longer shall the light rule over us and beat us into submission, chase us into the shadows, destroy our families, homes, and persecute our children. We will no longer be unjustly imprisoned. Kept from occupying positions of power. We will dismantle the light's weapon, the Ministry of Magic, and if they resist us we will wrench it from their cold dead hands. We have been reborn with new life, new blood, and new vigor. And we will all have to work together to reap the benefits of this blessing from Lady Magic herself!"

The group in the room were buzzing with excitement as Arcturus finished his rousing speech. All of them had ideas rushing through their heads of what needed to be done in the coming years. The lower lords of the noble houses sat chattering excited, planning their respective rises to power and how they and their families could benefit from these changes. Arcturus however, sat quietly in his chair and returned to his tea. He and Marus shared a long meaningful look.

They finally would have an opportunity to return things to their natural balance.

Quite some time after the dinner party had finished two old friends, Arcturus and Marus sat opposite to one another relaxed in armchairs in one of the Black estate's many lounges. The both held glasses of fire-whiskey in their hands and their feet rested on a shared ottoman.

"Did you see Abraxas' robes?" Marus asked Arcturus, his face alight with amusement.

"I don't think anyone in that room could help but see them, such a gaudy mess, what was he thinking, ice blue." The men shared a deep chuckle and then each took a long drawl from their drinks. They sat in silence for a moment, a lifetime of friendship creating a comfort in the silence that would have been absent between many others.

"This truly is wonderful news, Arcturus." Marus' voice was soft and quiet as he spoke to his closest friend and confidant.

"Wonderful, but harrowing. I did not think that we would be heading back into battle Marus." Arcturus' voice was hopeful but tired. The two friends gazed at each other for some time before either of them decided to speak again.

"It won't be like last time Arcturus, we-" Marus' soft words was cut off by Arcturus.

"I know it won't. We are not boys anymore. Not fools…" Arcturus didn't finish the thought, they both knew what Arcturus had left unsaid. Both men continued to sit in silence, choosing for the moment to spend time in the past.

Eventually, Arcturus' distraction intensified. His nostalgia melting, he instead stared vacantly out the nearby window watching a bird of the night play above the canopy of the great forest his ancestors had planted. He watched as the large bird dipped low, just grazing above the canopy before spiraling up just to do it all over again.

"What has you so distracted, my friend?" Marus's gaze focused closely in on his friend's face.

Arcturus didn't reply, for Arcturus had not even heard him. His face remained vacant of an expression as he continued to watch the bird playing over the great and ancient black forest only to be disturbed by something jumping from the canopy just as the bird dipped close to it. The bird was pulled down into the canopy as if it had never been there.

"Dumbledore likely knows already. They will strike, Marus. Hard and fast like the deceitful beasts they are. There will be no honour in their violence." Arcturus continued to stare out the window at where the bird once was, the sky was now an empty void of undisturbed darkness; except the stars of course. The stars would always be there.

"Then we must strike harder and faster my friend." Marus replied at once. His voice held passion that reminded Arcturus so much of his youth, when they had adventured around Europe alongside Grindelwald.

Arcturus was about to reply, a plan already formed on his lips, when the bird appeared again. It had burst up from the canopy carrying something, likely its attacker, away into the night.

He changed his mind. "No, old friend. We do not need to strike harder, or faster." Arcturus stopped speaking and took a long sip of his whiskey as he watched the bird fade into the darkness carrying away its dinner.

Marus knew better than to correct his friend. Arcturus had always been the better tactician between the two. He turned his head and attempted in vain to see what it is that had captured Arcturus' attention. "What is it that you propose then, Arcturus?" Marus' voice held no disrespect, but instead a curiosity.

"Such is the nature of darkness." Arcturus replied simply. He took another long sip of his whiskey and then turned back to his friend. "Let them try and strike at us, we will feign weakness and let them grow arrogant in their small victories until they think us too weak to strike back." Arcturus' lip curled upward, teasing a smirk as he spoke.

"And then we crush them." Marus' face curled into a similar expression to that of Arcturus.

"They will crush themselves." Arcturus replied. Both men wore full smirks as they both emptied their glasses and poured fresh drinks. They would have a busy night preparing for the next Wizenmangot assembly.

Sirius entered the newly finished nursery alongside his own chambers. The room was fairly large and had a supply closet attached that was stocked with diapers, extra blankets, hygiene products and the like. There as a large cradle in the centre of the room with a high and elegant frame designed to keep the child safe. The back wall was a large bay window that showed the night sky and its stars like a beautiful mosaic.

A large mobile hovered above the cradle and various plush forms of magical animals and items rotated slowly, bobbing up and down as they rotated in a circle. The child inside the crib seemed to pay close attention to the thestral and a gray phoenix that were on opposite sides of the invisible rotating mobile.

"Hey little buddy" Sirius smiled down warmly at the boy as he approached the crib. The small baby gurgled happily at him.

"You're happy to see me aren't you?" Sirius's smile only got warmer as the child started making spit bubbles and wriggled slightly; he was obviously excited to see Sirius. Careful to support the child's head, Sirius lifted him out of the cradle and held him gently in his arms, he was so small and precious, so fragile.

"Your grandpa says that you're special, because of your name." Sirius said to the child. The boy's eyes fluttered sleepily. "But I don't agree with him." The boy blinked as if he understood, but Sirius knew better. "I think your name is special because you're a special little boy." The boy gurgled quietly and then his eyes finally fluttered shut as he let out a tiny soft yawn. Sirius grinned, watching his cute little face as he fell asleep.

Sirius moved carefully to a rocking chair that had been placed in a corner of the room to offer a view that overlooked the ancient forest. Sirius was careful not to disturb Noctis as he sat and began to rock the chair back and forth in slow but long arcs. He continued to rock the child for quite some time. He wasn't sure exactly how long. Eventually Dobby came in and replaced all the bedding in Noctis' crib. Sirius had a feeling that the elf had already changed it a few times today but he wasn't going to complain. The little elf disappeared as quick as he came in.

Sirius continued to rock back and forth quietly, eventually his rocking matched the pace of Noctis' slow breathing. He looked up when light crept across his face from the door which had just crept open. He turned his head to see his grandmother enter the room. Her eyes searched the room until she spotted Sirius in the rocking chair. Her face crinkled into a smile unlike any other he had seen from his gran. Her makeup had all been washed off, her jewelry removed, and her fancy clothes exchanged for a thick bathrobe. But her imperfections, the wrinkles around her eyes and the light freckles on her cheeks just served to make the smile that she sent him even warmer – it almost glowed.

She closed the door slowly without making any noise or saying a word, the smile was enough.

Noctis stirred just a little and then settled back into a deep sleep **.**


	5. Interlude 1 (Part I)

**A/N:  
** I'm going to be releasing a series of short scenes as I can prepare them - I'm sorry that's all it's going to be for a short while. Grad school is a demanding place and I've taken on a lot of responsibility recently. I hope you all enjoy.

 **Interlude: Breakfast with the Blacks**

It had been a busy week for the Black family, to say the least. They had of course been simply buried alive in social obligations to present their new protectorate and parade him around various and sundry crowds. They selected these events very carefully, choosing only to have Noctis present when there was a satisfactory number of allies to protect the babe. No one could dispute that the blacks were protective of their children - and they were not absolutely obligated to attend any functions aside from those hosted by their formal allies and other members of the ancient seven.

At the moment, Noctis was being held by Analise in a small lounge as she chatted idly with her close friend, Alena Bones. The two women were close friends and tended to spend time together whenever their husbands were busy on Wizenmangot business or some such nonsense that the pair frequently got up to - they had grown very close over the years and they shared a close bond.

"Alena I couldn't believe my eyes, honestly I'm still not sure I believe it." Analise was feeding Noctis from a bottle as she spoke to her friend. Soft morning light filtered in through the high arched windows that ran along the eastern wall of the room. The room was painted a cool silvery blue that brightened the room just enough to compliment the bright morning light. Analise simply loved spending her mornings in this room, it was so full of light and energy from the morning sun and it energized her for the rest of the day.

"Well 'Lise, I mean, it is not as if babies as young and Noctis regularly perform accidental magic." Alena's face looked like a cross between amusement and worry. A cup of tea went untouched next to her on an elegant end table.

"I wouldn't exactly have called it accidental…" Analise's voice was quiet and hesitant as if she was nervous to say something too loudly and be overheard.

"Of course it wasn't, he pulled two stuffed animals down from an enchanted mobile and into his crib so he could snuggle them as he slept!" Alena shared an intense look with her friend that spoke to the gravity of the situation.

"Well the mobile was rather old- " Analise tried.

"Nonsense even if it was an antique I doubt a child would be able to remove one of those animals from the mobile, much less two at barely a week old. We both know the child is anything but ordinary. 'Lise we already know he has to be exceptional, he inherited the Peverell line for Merlin's sake!" Alena spoke in hushed tones with her closest friend. The morning light, or perhaps the new purpose that the babe and brought them cast the age from their faces as the new women spoke.

"I don't want anyone expecting anything from my darling Noctis before he is even able to sit up, much less walk or talk" Analise replied calmly, but her best friend could see the spark crackling behind her eyes.

Analise knew that the boy was powerful; oh yes. He had been crowned in the blood of death's carrier and by magic itself, he had inherited an ancient line. She could not ignore the signs she had been given by magic itself. And she would be damned if she would let the world twist the child with its cruelty; Noctis would make his own path and if she had to wrench the earth and heavens apart to assure the boy's success and wellbeing she would. She had sworn it to magic itself only a few nights ago.

"We will keep his secret's 'Lise, no one needs to know. We can protect him" Alena had read the cold stone like demeanour of her best friend on the subject, she knew this was of the utmost important to her friend, her high priestess.

"Not even Artcuturus or Marus shall know" Analise replied. Alena had made the oath before, to speak of matters not only to her husband.  
"We will only tell him if we must, but we shall try to handle this ourselves. You know how men can be, so concerned with glory, with petty politics." Alena speech was hushed and quick, both of their husbands were somewhere in the estate, likely planning a political revolution of some sort.

"Yes, it is best if we women handled this matter. We will ensure that he is prepared to take the mantle that our lady magic has placed upon his shoulders."

"We will prepare him for his future, have no worries. He has the full power of both our houses Analise - that is no small support to have."  
Analise only nodded in response as her brow furrowed, something that Alena had learned meant her friend was deep in thought.


	6. Paving The Way (Part I)

**AN:  
** Hello folks. My sincerest apologies for having submitted absolutely nothing for your reading pleasure. I do hope that this chapter makes it up to all of you. I suppose we will struggle our way through this together.

Warm regards,  
~K

 **Chapter Six: Paving the Way**

It was Noctis' tenth birthday and Grandpa Arcturus and Nana Ana had promised to take him to Diagon Alley for a treat. The boy was brimming with excitement as he tore through the manor he called home, poking his head into each of the rooms he passed in search of his two favourite people.

His search was cut short by a stern voice at his back. "Young man, it is very poor form to run through the halls of the manor in such a way. You could harm someone, or even yourself." His grandmother's words were reprimanding but kind.

"Sorry Nana." Noctis instantly replied after turning around and sharpening his posture.

Alena only smiled at the child in return, they all knew that he was in no serious trouble.

"I think this little scamp was just excited for our trip, don't you dear?" Arcturus smiled warmly at the child as he approached them from a door further down the hall. As he passed he ruffled Noctis' messy black hair and motioned for them both to continue walking with him.

"Where would you like to go today Noctis?" Arcturus' voice was warm and caring, and would have been particularly jarring to anyone who didn't know the man well; no one really considered Arcturus Black, or any of the Blacks for that matter, to be the warm caring sort.

"ICECREAM!" was Noctis' quick reponse, only to be followed up with a quick addition "And the pet store! Please please please!" The boy had stopped walking so that he could focus on staring up at this adoptive great-grandparents with two large pleading emerald eyes.

His grandmother smiled at the boys antics. "Of course darling, we can go anywhere you like along the alley, it is your birthday after all." Noctis knew that they would spoil him rotten today, there was no need for his begging. But still, his excitement necessitated it.

Arcturus simply ruffled the boy's already messy hair and ushered him along to the far end of the hall where the boy's bedroom was found.

"Run along lad, make sure you are presentable. We'll go fetch your father - meet us in the receiving hall in twenty minutes or else we will leave without you!" The tone of humour was unmistakeable in the old man's voice but Noctis didn't hear any of it - he was busy running off to prepare himself for their shopping excursion.

Noctis tore into his room and started trying to put together an outfit for the day, he had grabbed several sets of nicely tailored robes, all of them black with different stitching, fits, and colours of trim. He seemed to be confused as to which he should wear but had managed to narrow it down to several of the longer-cut robes.

Spotting the boy's confusion his grandmother cut in. "The long cut, nice stitching, and trimmed with silver darling, because it is your birthday it is a formal occasion; because you are not of age to attend Hogwarts it is silver." The boy responded by thumping himself on the forehead lightly and tossing the other robes back toward the closet where they nearly hung themselves back up.

She chuckled again at the boy, he breathed a renewed energy into every moment of her life.

\- - o - O - o - -

Not long after, the group had made it to the receiving hall. All of them were dressed in robes nearly identical to Noctis', with the exception of several small details. Arcturus' robes, for example, were trimmed with the compulsory purple of a Wizengamot lord. Sirius' robes on the other hand were trimmed in gold, but he also wore a heavy bracelet made of dozens of tiny chains of a reddish metal that identified him as an auror.

Noctis bounced around the portage room in excitement, rambling to anyone who would listen about the many different things he wanted. His appearance was immaculate, of course, with the exception of his messy black hair that danced upon his head. His grandmother had eventually surrendered, privately of course, saying that messy hair was not that bad after all.

"Excited for your big day?" Sirius' smile was warm as he lifted the boy off his feet and spun him in a circle, eliciting a joyful cry from the boy.

It didn't take long for the boy to wriggle free and start adjusting his robes to their previously pristine state. "Don't do that again Siri, I'm a boy now, not a child." Noctis' tone was harsh and reprimanding, sounding eerily reminiscent of his grandfather, the entire group stared for a moment before breaking into a loud burst of laughter.

Noctis pouted but he was soon placated by Sirius' apology. "Yes, how silly of me, Noctis. I should have known." Laughter danced in his eyes but it was a good enough apology for Noctis who seemed to have completely forgotten about the ordeal.

"Nana Ana can we go to the bookstore too!" Noctis again looked at them pleadingly with his large emerald eyes.

"Of course Noctis honey, it would not be a trip to the Alley without taking you to the bookstore."

The boy in question simply smiled in response, content with the promise of books.

It wasn't long before the small family found themselves apparting into a wide town square just off of Diagon Alley. The square was a colourful mosaic of flat stones of seemingly random shape and size that had been arranged into geometrical shapes and patterns that seemed to flow perfectly into each other. Small townhouses and a few smaller specialiy shops circled around the square, Noctis remembered a few of them from past trips with his grandparents.

The family stood in clear contrast to this cheerful and colourful spot however, with the usual exception of Noctis. The three older blacks were all dressed in their traditional well cut jett black robes - black from from head to toe. All of them had their hair tamed into long braids in various styles that ran down their backs and their grey eyes seeming to absorb much of the light around them.

And despite Noctis' matching them in clothes and his seemingly calm demeanour - his blank face and firm posture - his emerald eyes positively sparkled with an unparalleled excitement while his wild hair danced in the breeze.

The family all set off toward the direction of the main alley without saying a word, it was an etiquette that the Black family has coached into their line for generations - silent unwavering unity in public.

Their tall proud forms cut through the crowd with ease. People moved aside giving them ample space, most of them staring with respect, though several with fear. They didn't stop to talk to anybody - of course, even if they had seen anybody they'd known it would have been unbecoming for a family of their stature to stop and talk in a public place for long. Arcturus did however nod in acknowledgement to several colleagues.

They were just passing the Daily Prophet when somebody finally disturbed them.

"Excuse me, Lord Black? I was w-wondering if you could comment on the recent Educational proclamation issued by yourself and Lord Bones…?" A young man, clearly a reporter, stood near a rack of that1 morning's newspapers.

Arcturus looked down his nose at the young man for a short while before saying anything. "We simply felt it prudent to review the institution to ensure that the wizarding world's future is preserved, and that its values, knowledge, and culture are being taught to the next generation. I would imagine that it is standard procedure, these things must be done every so often of course." Arcturus sounded every bit the politician that he was as he explained away the most recent political action his faction of the wizengamot had gotten up to.

"What do you have to say about Dumbledore's claims that this is just another attempt to push the pureblood agenda even further, with the ultimate goal of forbidding muggle borns from entering the magical world." The reporter seemed more sure of himself now. A copy of the daily prophet rested under his arm, the group could just make out the headline "Hogwarts subject to sweeping educational audit by order of Black and Bones".

Arcturus made a face at the mention of the bearded man. "I would remind _mister_ Dumbledore of his place." Arcturus' voice had taken on a much sterner tone, causing the reporter to flinch as if he had been reprimanded.

"Of course, of course Lord Black. Thank you for your time." The reporter bowed slightly and ducked away from the group, scribbling on what appeared to be a yellow notepad all the while.

\- - o - O - o - -

The air was more crisp than Arcturus had expected. It was the beginning of June but already there was still unseasonable chill in the air. Arcturus, stood in stark contrast to his surroundings; his tall elegant form with his finely fitted black his cloak flapped in the wind, barely defending the old man from the cold assault.

"Its so cold!" Noctis exclaimed from Arcturus' side. He had apparated both of them to the town square in Hogsmeade. He was due to attend a meeting of the Hogwarts board of governors in just an hour.

"It is Scotland Noctis, it is always cold." Arcturus' voice was as stern as his posture was sharp - but Noctis knew his great grandfather by now, and could see the hints of affection in the wrinkles around the man's mouth and eyes. Noctis did not offer a reply to his grandfather's quip, instead he was forced to catch up to the man who had suddenly started walking toward the castle in his typical brisk pace. Noctis clearly remembered an occasion when his grandmother had admonished his grandfather for said pace, saying if he was always hurrying about he would never stop to enjoy life. His grandfather's reply was similarly clear in his memory: "better to arrive in the enemy's camp unexpected than allow them to meet you along the path or at the gate."

Noctis was not sure why he was thinking of his grandfather's philosophy to interact with enemies, it was just a meeting at Hogwarts after all.

They stalked up the winding path in silence for a few moments before Arcturus broke the silence.

"Tell me Noctis, how are you to address the Headmaster should we encounter him?"

"I am to refer to him politely as Headmaster, no other recognition." Noctis responded without missing a beat. His grandparents often quizzed him before he accompanied them on trips like these.

"And the professors?"

"Professors are to be accorded the respect of their position and experience, several of whom are masters, excluding Madame Hooch and Professor Babbich. While Hooch is an experienced professional..."

"Dumbledore's talking head, that's right. But you will just refer to her as professor." Noctis nodded at his grandfather and began coaching his posture into the trained perfection expected of him. "Remember not to speak unless absolutely necessary. Many of those present are malicious and envious people who would like nothing more than to embarrass us. Listen closely, learn from them, and more importantly from me."

"Of course grandfather. And stay close to you, in clear sight of an exit." Noctis parroted the words back to him, half sarcastic half obedient.

Arcturus stopped a few meters from the gate, out of earshot, and turned to Noctis. "There's no room for cheek Noctis, this meeting might easily turn dangerous; you never know what to expect of Dumbledore and his ilk. If I am not able to, Marus will know to protect you. Stay close to him also."

The two wizards continued forward through the magnificent wrought iron gates that stood guard over the fortress of Hogwarts. They were left ajar in anticipation of their arrival. Still, Arcturus could not help but purse his lips when noticing the glaring security flaw.

"Remember your etiquette, Noctis." Arturus said quietly as they passed through the gates and into the ancient wards.

Noctis simply nodded, having already committed himself to his vow of strategic silence.

It was a short silent walk as they strolled into the castle and then into the great hall. The halls furnishings were slightly modified; the head table and its accompanying chairs had been removed but the normal house tables were all in place. Along a few of them a couple of the older students were still finishing up their breakfasts.

But their target was not one of the house tables for a late breakfast. Their target was at the end of the hall, in the dead centre of the far wall. Normally a large tapestry depicting the founding of Hogwarts was displayed proudly behind the throne-like chair of the headmaster. Today, however, this large tapestry was rolled up and pinned above the door it once hid, and the headmaster's throne was removed making way for a greater power that could be found behind two richly coloured wooden doors adorned with a bronze plaque in the middle. The governor's hall.

When the duo reached the door they stood still for a moment. Arcturus reached forward and pressed his house ring into the bronze plaque in the centre of the door. As he pushed the ring against the plaque he commanded it allowed him entry. "Open in the name of Governor Black." Arcturus' tone left no room for disagreement even though he was talking to a door; it was the same tone he often used in the Wizengamot.

The bronze plaque appeared to melt down the middle and it separated, allowing for the doors to open and the two tall dark figures that where the Blacks to pass through. Arcturus stepped forward first into the dark stairwell. They could see a flicker of light filtering up from the bottom of the long twisting staircase - the hall of governors could be found under the great hall.

Noctis followed dutifully behind his grandfather. He had never entered the hall with his grandfather before, he was always told that the was too young and that he would be allowed to do it when he was older. He suddenly supposed that nine was old enough and smiled to himself in satisfaction. Noctis pulled his posture together again, sharper - trying his best to be a respectable member of the most ancient and noble house of Black; the pride he felt at his grandfather's trust for him definitely helped..

Just before they finished rounding the soft corner in the stairs Arcturus looked over toward Noctis with an inquiring face. Noctis simply nodded back to the man. Both of them took a deep breath and steeled themselves as they finished the corner and were in eyesight of the grandly decorated hall of governors. The hall was not as large as the great hall that rested above them; but neither was it meant to house so many. For it's purpose the room was very large, having been designed to house meetings numbering less than two dozen.

The room was lit by two pin-wheel torch chandeliers that gave the chamber the atmosphere of an oldfashioned war room. Tapestries decorated the walls, switching back and forth from the colours of Hogwart's fouding houses and those of the governor's who currently served on the governor's committee. It made for a nice contrast against the friendly but inescapable colour of Hogwarts' bricks. The floor was the same brick but it had a worn look - the majority of the floor, however, was dominated by a large puprle rug that occupied the centre of the room; making an incredible contrast.

The table and chairs were the centrepoints of the room, however. On either side of table sat 6 high-backed chairs. They were made of a rich, dark red wood - the same wood that was used to craft the doors to the chamber. The legs of the chairs were elaborate near-masterpieces with complex patterns featuring swirls and floral displays seemingly twisting together seemlessly. The legs of the chairs seemed to create braids that twisted upwards to create their backs. The chairs were upholstered in a bronze coloured fabric, and and at the top of every chair sat their family's crest.

With two exceptions of course.

The headmaster's chair, normally a regal sight in the great hall alongside the more ordinary seating for teachers and the benches for students seemed enormously out of place and basic in this room. It sat directly across for the cheif governor's chair - which happened to be Arcturus' seat.

Several men and a few women sat around the table, most of them were in their forties with some exception. The most obvious of which was Lord Marus Bones, who sat at the end of the table on the right side. Beside and across from him were several faces that Noctis recognized from various events he had attended with his family, including Lords Malfoy and Ollivander, as well as heir Weasley. Several of the people present in the room smiled sweetly at Noctis. Most notable of these smiles was that of the headmaster, and an older man that sat on the headmaster's right. Headmaster Horace Slughorn's smile might have charmed another child, but not Noctis. Noctis simply smiled back at that man, better to endear him than antagonize him; Noctis' preparation for this exact moment had obviously gone unnoticed by the portly man.

Headmaster Slughorn was seated at the end of the table in his now strangely muted throne-like chair. Beside him sat the minister for magic, Albus Dumbledore. Dumbledore did not share Slughorn's smile, not in the slightest. He focused his attention on Arcturus and observed him with an ambivalent look on his face. The two were famous enemies.

Arcturus guided Noctis over to the other end of the table, a spot traditionally reserved for the elected chair of the Governors. It was taller than the other chairs in the room and considerably more elaborate. Above where his head would rest there was the sigil of house Black; noting the house of the current chief governor.

"Arcturus" Marus said in an even tone, meeting his oldest and closest friend in the same tone he always used at such affairs.

"Marus my old friend, a pleasure to see you again as always." Arcturus responded in an even tone with the polite smile on his face while he carefully maneuvered his tailored robes as he sat in the authoritative chair. Noctis mirrored his every movement, sitting in a nearly identical, though considerably smaller, chair directly to Arcturus' right. Conveniently, without being informed to expect him, the elves had prepared a space for him beside both his grandfather and Marus.

"I'd like to call to order the eleven thousandth, two hundredth and fifty second meeting of the Hogwarts Board of Governors. Declare your presence." As soon as Acrturus began to speak the scribe sprung to action. A young man sat in the corner of the room, with several automated quills scribbling around him, while others were stationary and unmoving. He supervised them all diligently, while also listening closely as a witness to the proceedings.

"Headmaster, present." Stated Slughorn pompously in response.

"Most ancient and Noble Weasleys." Bill and Charlie were both present, and spoke in unison.

"Most ancient and noble Olivander." Garrick's tone still maintained his mysterious quality.

"Most ancient and noble Bones." Several other houses and representatives noted their presence, including the Malfoys, Greengrasses, Diggorys followed by Dumbledore acting in his capacity as minister for magic, and undersecretary Elphias Doge, who oversaw the ministry's controversial department of 'educational oversight.'

"I see that undersecretary Doge is here, and that the ministry has continued with its _illegal_ _and unconstitutional_ so called educational oversight." Arcturus' last two words were dripping with sarcasm.

"Mister Doge is here as the so prescribed second representative of the Ministry for Magic, as such he is entitled to a seat and a vote at this table as according to treatise 26, subsection f, article 7 regarding concessions to the ministry.

Arcturus took a deep breath and rubbed his temples in exaggerated agitation. "I do not question the legitimacy with which two representatives of the ministry may sit on the Hogwarts board of governor's, Minister Dumbledore." Arcturus folded his hands over themselves on top of some papers that sat on the table in front of him. "Instead, I am challenging the ministry's choice of delegate, as is not only my duty but my _obligation._ As undersecretary Doge is currently the head of a new and illegal department, a department that - I will remind you Dumbledore - _you created,_ he is forbidden! In fact, he is forbidden by that very same treatise _you just cited_ Dumbledore!" Dumbledore's face instantly fell, sensing that he had carelessly fumbled and lost this battle. Arcturus did not give him the satisfaction of responding to the Minister's defeat with a smile. "Therefore, as chief of this _autonomous_ school's board of governors I am demanding Mr. Doge's immediate expulsion from these chambers."

There was a bit of a shuffle as the hall's doors opened themselves and the chair that Doge was sitting it moved itself back from the table several feet.

Doge looked around in a silent panic for a few moments, his eyes settling on Dumbledore in outrage but also demanding guidance or instruction of some kind.

Dumbledore did not reply to him, he simply watched as Doge slumped forward and trudged his way out of the hall and up the stairs. The doors to the hall slammed loudly behind him causing Noctis to jump slightly. No doubt Doge had jumped as well, if not knocked over.

"Now that that issue is sorted, scribe, please note the absences of houses Potter and Longbottom, as well as the first presence of house Peverell in centuries." Arcturus pointedly did not look over at the old headmaster as he spoke, the man would no doubt be fuming that his allies had failed to make an appearance. Even moreso, that Arcturus had so easily granted himself a proxy vote on behalf of his grandson at all future governor's meetings.

"So noted, chief governor Bl-" The scribe had just found enough time between flicking his wand at various quills muttering spells under his breath to respond to the request made of him - but was quickly cut off by Dumbledore.

"Mr. Peverell is just a boy! He is not even of age to attend school, much less make decisions regarding its management! I will not all-" Dumbledore had really worked up a steam and his old grandfatherly persona was but a distant memory at this point. He was red in the face and howling mad.

"It is not your place to allow or disallow it, minister. _Heir Peverell,_ is granted a seat on this esteemed body by birthright and law of magic, which is considerably more than I can say for you." Arcturus had of course been expecting Dumbledore's inevitable rude interjection into the affairs of the governor's committee. The white bearded man only huffed in frustration as a response.

"Now that we have that sorted out, please let the record reflect that governors Weasley, Ollivander, Bones, Black, and Peverell are all present, along with elected governors Malfoy, Greengrass, Zabini, Johnson, Diggory and Ogden. Concessional governor Dumbledore is also here, as is the headmaster; though I'm sure that is well known by now considering the interference the minister attempted."

Arcturus paused long enough to clear his throat and allow his barbs at Dumbledore to strike true. Several of the governors looked over at the man uneasily before turning back to Arcturus attentively. "I'd like to take this time to offer our body a chance to review the agenda for today's meeting - and introduce any new matters that will need to be brought to our attention." Arcturus took that moment to scan the agenda himself - noting happily that the word _review_ was tacked innocently onto the end of the page. His plan was moving along well.

"I motion to include a discussion of the yearly teacher's reports." Lord Greengrass said casually, choosing to continue analyzing the agenda whilst he spoke.

"Noted and added as an agenda item to be considered before we commence the year-end review." Arcturus scribbled the words down on the corner of his parchment. It wasn't outlandish for anyone to insist upon a review of the term's teaching reports; "Does anyone else have any further issues they would like to bring forward?"

Nobody spoke up - leaving the group in silence and prompting Arcturus to move forward with the proceedings.

"Our first item of business is the headmaster's report - so if you don't mind headmaster Slughorn." Arcturus' voice trailed off quietly.

"The year ended as expected - we did not exceed our prescribed operating budget, and 46 seventh year students have qualified to sit their NEWT examinations beginning later this week. OWLS have progressed as expected with 52 students qualifying for the examination. All other years are preparing for their standard end of year exams. No teachers have resigned this term, as was expected and enrollment has remained steady around fifty, as it has been for the last couple of years." Slughorn's long report was filled mostly with formalities, and included data that one could have easily assumed, or was already on record - but he gave the report in his self important tone none the less.

"How many students have received offers from professional quidditch teams?" An older man asked inquiringly.

"And how many students did not return this year after completing their OWLS?"

"Were there any significant disciplinary actions that did not require board notification?"

"Ah yes. Three of our students have received offers from professional teams, all reserve team - and all of which have been accepted." Horace smiled widely, preening over the relatively large number of his students that had been drafted.

"Wonderful" Marus replied, half sincerely half dismissively. "And the other questions headmaster Slughorn?" Marus tightened his lips just slightly to warn Slughorn off from any further antics.

"Ah… yes. Well… Four sixth year students did not return this year after completing their OWL exams last summer. A drop actually, from the five students who did the same last year. There was, however, a slight violent incident just yesterday evening…" Horace looked around the room nervously and took a deep breath, and continued. "Three students have been sanctioned for assaulting a first year child. As it is so close to end of term is makes no sense to suspend them. Currently they are serving detentions with professor Merryweather and their families have been fined... But as you can see it has all been dealt with - and what's more, the student is expected to make a full recovery!" Horace adapted a bit of a nervous tone as he went on. "It seems that some seventh year muggleborn students did not appreciate young miss Spinett's demands that they treat her appropriately as the heir to her house…" Horace grew quieter the longer he spoke, visibly flinching when several members of the board of governors clenched their jaws visibly.

"And what fine did you see fit to sanction these students with, Horace?" Ollivander was, surprisingly, the one to speak up in this case. It was unusual for the man, the entire family really, to go on the offensive about anything.

The discussion carried on for some time with various governors asking tough and cutting questions while Horace tried to keep up. They never got too tough and tensions never boiled over - but a precedent was clearly set and the governors had made themselves clear - they would not be "settling" anymore.

"And with that, it seems we have arrived at our final order of business." Arcturus straightened himself in the chair and looked over at Noctis for a moment. Noctis was sitting in his chair with refined posture and a clearly attentive face. Arcturus was impressed, most children could never sit through a meeting like this and not become distracted or distraught in some way, yet his grandson sat there as attentive as the moment he walked in. The boy had even taken some notes. Pride flashed through Arcturus' body; he would make an admirable lord Black indeed.

"As all of you should know by now, the Wizengamot has given leave to the board of governors to appoint an educational oversight and action committee. The executive council of the Governors, composed of the Ancient and Noble families, have voted in favour of establishing such a committee to review what we understand to be the increasingly unacceptable standards that have developed at our esteemed academy over the past decades." The stare that Dumbledore sent at Arcturus while he made his speech could have put out the sun. The room had definitely cooled several degrees but still Arcturus continued speaking.

"We will recess until July in order to give us time to review the relevant documents for the last several decades. After this point the committee will convene to find relevant third party authorities to make recommendations."

Dumbledore opened his mouth to speak, his frigid anger quickly turning into a burning rage. Arcturus, however, commanded the hall and gave the grizzled old wizard no chance. "This body will implement, in August, any of the recommendations that we see fit. This process will continue until we believe Hogwarts to be returned to a suitable standard."

Arcturus spoke with a finality to his voice - enunciating every syllable perfectly. Many in the room clapped politely once Arcturus had finished speaking.

Change was coming to Hogwarts, and the wizarding world. The stakes had changed and Arcturus had the future of his grandson to consider; he could not, and most certainly would not settle for the future of enforced mediocracy that Dumbledore and his ilk seemed hellbent on actualizing. Arcturus would not stand for it - and the world be damned if anyone got in his way.

 **A/N:**  
Hope you enjoyed. Any feedback is appreciated, as usual.


	7. Fire and the Library (Part I)

**A/N:  
** Hey look, you did not have to wait months for an update. Fingers crossed that I can keep this up! This chapter is a bit different in that it includes some (a ton of) history; please be lenient I am not a historian.

 **Chapter Seven: Fire and the Library**

Noctis was curled up in a cushy arm chair in the Black library, reading a relatively new looking book. The book was protected by a bright red hard cover, and emblazoned over it in silver lettering was "A Brief History of Magical Conflict."

Noctis was positively enraptured with the book - making his way through it slowly with a dictionary on the end table beside him to help him decipher words that were new to him. It had started off as a slow process - but nothing could stand between Noctis and knowledge. Nothing.

Except maybe any of his favourite foods, his best friend Aimus, or an animal of any kind.

Fortunately for the book in his hands Noctis currently had none of those things so it continued to receive Noctis' attention and reverence.

The sun had long set over the home of the Black family. It was early December and the sun had been setting earlier and earlier every day - casting long shadows into the afternoon that quickly blanketed the world in darkness before dinner time. Noctis didn't mind.

Noctis' arm chair was positioned in reading nook on the far wall of the library that overlooked the forest. The walls of the nook were composed almost exclusively of windows - allowing the famous forest of the Black family to be put on display. Bronze oil lanterns hung from the walls all over the place casting ample light over the comfortable yet refined furniture that called the nook home.

Noctis finally broke eye contact with his book and set it down for a moment, still open face down over his lap. The small boy rubbed his eyes sleepily and let out a long yawn. He sat there quietly for a few moments and released another, louder, yawn.

"That must not be a very interesting book you have there, Noctis." Arcturus had slipped into the library and evaded Noctis' notice. He held in his hand a book of his own, something very ancient looking with a faded leather cover. Something was inscribed on the cover but Noctis couldn't see what it said. He suspected even if he could _read_ what the title was he still would not understand it. His grandfather often read strange books in different languages - sometimes with whole other alphabets that Noctis had never seen.

Noctis, ever the bookworm, was quick to correct his grandfather. "No it is not boring at all! I'm learning all about lord Magnentius, he was the son of a powerful Roman who became a German dark lord! He conquered magical Germany before he was defeated by a group of angry wizards."

Arcturus could not help but chuckle at Noctis and his excitement. The boy was absolutely obsessed with history, and powerful people in particular. The boy was very knowledgeable for his age - he only nine after all. Still, his depiction of the historical moment was a little off to say the least.

"You seem to know a lot about him, little one. Did you know one of our ancestors was an ally of Magnentius?" Arcturus moved forward slightly and sat down in a padded armless chair - one of his favourites. Its cushioning was firm and it had a high back - it was something one might find in a monarch's personal sitting room.

Noctis's eyes shot open in surprise at the news his grandfather has presented him with. "Really? Who was he? What did he do? Are we German!? Was h-" Noctis started rhyming off questions so fast that Arcturus' head was spinning.

"Calm down Noctis, I will tell you all about him." The old man chuckled at Noctis' excitement. "His name was Canis Blæk, and he was not German, per se, he was actually a Saxon. Saxony is now a place within Germany; but at the time - back then - Germany did not exist. Canis himself was a very powerful wizard, and he was very famous at the time for his knowledge of war and strategy; he, and his family before him, had successfully fended off dozens of attacks against their fortress on the coast of northern Saxony near the mouth of a enormous river for hundreds of years."

"When Lord Magnentius' father was defeated by an opposing emperor, he fled North, into what was then called Germania - Saxony was a place in Germania. Lord Magnentius' father was abandoned by his army before he made it all the way to Saxony. But that did not stop him, he continued on with a few of his closest friends fleeing the power of Rome and the powerful men there who wished to do them harm."

Arcturus paused to take a breath and a short break from the story, the older man drifted away from a moment and stared off into space as the next part of the story came to him. Noctis sat on the edge of his seat soaking in every word his grandfather was sharing with him.

"When they got to Saxony they happened to stumble into the land that our ancestor, Canis' father, ruled over. Our ancestor eventually agreed to give refuge to the men that appeared at his gates. The men were skilled warriors and well educated in the ways of the Romans, so it was believed that they could be of use. The men made a home in the town surrounding the Blæc fortress that overlooked both the North Sea, and the mouth of the river. There were a lot of witches and wizards in the town, and while they were very private they did not hide from non-magicals like we do today." Noctis nodded along while his grandfather spoke, still looking over at him, completely enraptured. "As the men settled down in the town, they found jobs, homes, partners, and some had children - including, as you can assume, Lord Magnentius' father."

Arcturus paused again and took a deep breath. He looked out behind Noctis - into the dark night and even darker forest; it seemed to almost absorb all of the light in the sky.

"Lord Magnentius met Canis when they were both boys. Lord Magnentius' father had found a good job working for the Blæc family and was able to have his son, the man we have all come to know as Lord Magnentius, educated alongside Canis. The two were very close friends for their entire lives. When Magnentius set out to conquer the majority of what is now magical Germany, what was then Germania, Canis was with him, planning battles and fighting alongside him every step of the way."

Noctis' face was the picture of adoration. The boy had a keen interest in history and an even keener love for his family. To combine the two was turning out to be one of Noctis' passions.

"They never conquered all of magical Germania, but of course you know that, but they did come to be the rulers of the majority of what is now Germany, including some more territory to the east. Sometimes they fought vicious battles to gain power, but other times they negotiated with the local leaders and joined forces. But together, Magnentius and Canis ruled the magical kingdom they forged, they called it "Walpurg." They made the fortress of Canis' people their capital and they expanded it, adding more fortifications and defences, enchanting it with powerful magic and building it bigger than they had ever imagined. It was said that the old fortress became one of the most magnificent castles - a crown jewel of Europe. It was even written about by several ancient Roman wizards. They ruled from that castle for ma-"

Arcturus was abruptly cut off when his wife, Analise, entered the library, a thin black covered book under her arm. "Telling stories again, are you dear?" Analise's face was lit up with affectionate amusement.

"Noctis was telling me about somebody in the book he is reading." Arcturus nodded toward the volume that now sat on the table beside Noctis' chair - neglected. "It just so happened that I know a lot about the people the book was talking about - because they happen to be family of ours."

Analise smiled knowingly while simultaneously reaching out and placing the book she had brought into the room with her into a nicely polished wooden box. She left it there in the box and walked over toward the reading nook where Noctis and Arcturus had set up camp. She gracefully sat in the last remaining piece of furniture - a chair not unlike Arcturus' but for the expectations of two high arms on either side and a considerable amount more padding. As she made herself comfortable a house elf popped into the room and grabbed the book she had left in the polished box.

"Krasus, when you are finished with that book could you please bring us in some tea, and cocoa for Noctis. And could you get my nice Afghan from my study please - there's a chill." Analise's face was the picture of kind grace as she gave the aged head house elf of the manor the order.

"An elf will be taking care of it Mistress." Krasis replied politely - his voice did not betray his age, he sounded more like a very polite middle aged elf than an old one. Krasus turned not long after replying and walked deep into the shelves to return the book Analise had brought back.

"Now, don't let me interrupt dear - please go on." Analise smiled sweetly at Arcturus who cleared his throat to begin again.

"Teas master and mistress!" Dobby's cheerful voice squeaked into the room unexpectedly as he conjured a relatively high tea table and placed a tray with two prepared cups, and a full tea set out for the two older occupants of the library. Noctis had jumped slightly at the abrupt and lively arrival but his face quickly became a picture of delight once more. "And hot cocoa for the young master." Dobby smiled widely at the young boy, who he personally cared for, and placed the large mug of cocoa on the table beside Noctis. "I'll be going now, be asking if you is needing anything." Dobby said in his typically chipper voice before disappearing with a crack that sounded more like a bell.

No one said anything, but Krasus could be heard muttering about "posture" and "those young ones" under his breath from amidst the towering shelves of the library. While he did a second elf, older than Dobby, popped into the room again and gracefully tossed Analise' favourite afghan, made with a pattern of silver and pastel purples and pinks, over her just right. Analise smiled at the elf who bowed quickly and left the room as quick as she had arrived.

"Now… where was I?" Arcturus pondered out loud after passing Analise her tea, taking up his own, and crossing his legs.

"You were just telling me about how Magnentius and Canis ruled from their castle until something happened!" Noctis chipped in before diving for his hot cocoa, taking the cup with two hands and holding it up to his mouth to take a deep drink.

Both of his grandparents smiled again at the boy's enthusiasm. "As yes, that's right. They both lived there and ruled over Walpurg - establishing laws to oversee and protect the land and its occupants, while also fighting off invasions from magical Roman armies and other enemies. They were ruthless in these battles Noctis, Canis and Magnentius always joined in the fights because they believed all good leaders should; and they never lost. They commissioned fortresses all along their borders to protect their country from invasion and even established a wizard's council to foster good relations between groups in their land. They built a powerful kingdom in just a decade. But that wasn't enough."

Arcturus paused for suspense and nursed his tea for a few moments, chuckling privately to himself. Noctis was sitting on the edge of his seat and practically shaking.

Analise took the opportunity to tease Noctis. "I think it is past your bedtime Noctis, you should head to bed, we can finish the story another night. We have a busy day tomorrow, the Malf-"

"Noo!" Noctis protested loudly, a pout resting on his face as he looked to his grandmother, pleading.

"Oh alright then Noctis, you can listen to the rest of the story tonight," Analise smiled at the boy who was again smiling and content - sitting comfortably in his chair nursing his cocoa again.

"Canis and Magnentius were on their way to the tallest mountain in the kingdom when a rebellion started. A group of wizards lived in that area called the Lombards. They were angry with Canis and Magnentius because they had lost their independence to them years ago, but also because Magnentius' father was a Roman, who the Lombards hated above all else. While Canis and Magnentius were on the mountain conducting a ritual celebrating the coming of spring they were attacked by the Lombards. They were vastly outnumbered and Magnentius was slain in battle. Canis was devastated at the loss of his companion. Once he had escaped the Lombards he called on mother magic to forever curse the Lombards for their transgressions against them, so that no magic would ever run through their veins again."

Noctis sat there with a blank look on his face. His ancestor had assisted in building a magical kingdom only to have a group of jealous wizards try and kill him and his companion while worshipping on one of the holiest of days. "W-what happened to Canis?" Noctis asked quietly, desperately hoping for a happy ending.

"He returned to his family's castle on the north coast of Saxony. Much of the kingdom mourned while other parts of the kingdom celebrated. Walpurg fell apart fairly quickly - it was a new, barely united kingdom and half of its leadership had just been assassinated. Canis resigned himself to the castle he had built with Magnentius, had children, and became a scholar. He wrote many books that delved into the obscure and arcane laws of magic and oversaw his people, books that are still influential to this day. They remained a very powerful magical force as he and his people withdrew further and further from the muggle world, banishing muggles from their realm. Before his death there were no more muggles left in Canis' lands."

"Canis died when he was 89, very early for a wizard of his position and power - but without Magnentius Canis was a shadow of his former self. Just a year after his death an enormous force of Roman wizards laid siege to the famous castle of Canis and Magnentius. Canis' first born son, Magnentius Vega Blæc, who you would know as our ancestor Vega Black, decided that the only thing that could be done was to seal the fortress from the Romans, and evacuate. He brought our family and our people to England, Noctis. And he built Blackweald - our home."

-o-O-o-

Noctis had long since fallen asleep in his armchair - his book closed and placed neatly at his side. Analise had woken him and guided the half asleep boy out of the library and into his bedroom a while ago, but his book still sat beside his chair. Arcturus got up and opened it - skipping to near the end of the book to a chapter dedicated to Lord Grindlewald.

The book had gotten the general premise of his agenda and war correctly but it failed to observe the connections between Grindlewald's war and the kingdom of Walpurg - despite Grindlewald's top lieutenants actually being named after the extinguished magical kingdom. Arcturus sighed and sat back in his chair skimming further through the chapter.

 _Amongst the most fearsome of the knights of Walpurgis were the mysterious Red and Black knights - so named for the colour of their battle robes. The two warriors have never been identified to this day though Albus Dumbledore, who ended Grindlewald's reign of terror over Europe, claims to have killed the men in a battle several hundred kilometres northwest of Hamburg._ Arcturus snorted as he read the book, laughing both at the idiocy of the public who would believe such garbage, and how close the book had gotten to actually connecting Grindlewald and the Knights of Walpurgis to the ancient kingdom of Walpurg.

Arcturus set the book back down beside Noctis' chair before grabbing a piece of paper and scribbling out a note directing Noctis to a book that was more suitable, perhaps a tougher read he considered… but certainly more factual than the one he had somehow found.

After he had finished that task the aged man let out a deep sigh and then reached to make himself a final cup of tea - the pot was still quite hot thanks to the spells that had been cast on the pot.

"What would you say if you could see what has become of the world, Canis? Vega? Or even you, despite your madness and fanaticism Gellert?" He asked no one in particular, and he did not expect a response. He of course received no answer but the sound of a house elf tending to a fire on the other side of the large room.

Finally finding himself able, Arcturus picked up the incredibly ancient book that he had come to the library to read. He got up and moved to a writing desk just outside the reading nook - closer to one of the hearths that kept the room warm. Carefully he placed the book down on the desk and used his wand to open it. On the cover, inscribed in ancient greek script, was something along the lines of "old magical fire." Arcturus was not certain, his ancient greek had never been the strongest. This book was clearly was not the original copy of the manuscript. Arcturus suspected that it had been transcribed, perhaps even translated, by a family member many years ago before the book could be lost to time. He was proved right a few moments later when a page bore the note of an editor, written in a form of what many in his society chose to call "ancient runes." Those with more education in the subject might be capable of identifying them as germanic - fewer still would know that they were old saxon; a rune system that his family had been using for more centuries that he could count. He was happy to see the more familiar script.

Just past this note informing him that the book had been reproduced was another note, left by the same ancestor that had transcribed the text. Arcturus raised his eyebrows. It was unlike his ancestors to add a page to books for such things - normally they would record any comments on books in their personal of family journals.

 _Dearest ancestor, I have decided to protect this book from the tests of time because I believe it to be one of the most important books our family has - it is the book describing our ancestors, before my forefathers settled on the coast of what is now Saxony and built this, our fortress home. We, the_ _Bl_ _æk were once known as the_ _Phlegein of ancient Greece, and before that still many thousands of years ago, the Bhleg; so named for our affinity to harness the fire existing within the stars and the destruction we have rought upon our enemies with this fire. I plead of you, ancestor, guard this knowledge with your life - few families have the fortune of knowing their histories the way I, and soon you, do._

Arcturus' brow rose higher and higher as he read the note - he had no idea that his book would contain such information, he believed it to be a book about magical fire - not about his family. Underneath the note in the dead centre of the page was the mark of his ancestor Canis Blæk.

Arcturus rubbed his eyes for a moment and turned the page once more, where he found the title written again - this time in old saxon. It read "A History of Magic's most Ancient Fire." Arcturus decided that it was time to close the book. He would come back to it with fresh eyes - he did not think himself capable of any more surprises for the day.

 **A/N:  
** I have taken an incredible number of liberties with my portrayal of history here; so keep this in mind. If any of you are confused about the home of the Blacks, please note my minor edit in chapter four where I have removed a reference to what I had then called blackmoor or nightcastle, the name Blackweald will stick. Apologies for the long note.


	8. Yule (Part I)

**A/N:**

Thank you all for you continued support and feedback - it is a wonderful inspiration to keep writing. I have the next chapter written, it just needs to be edited before it can be posted. It will be out soon! I have made some edits to chapter one and suggest you re-read it.

 **Chapter Eight: Yule.**

It was one of the nicest days they had seen that December. The sun was high and bright overhead - if not a little cold still. All the same it was a beautiful day and the thin layer of snow that had fallen the night before was melting off of the trees that surrounded a small group of nine people. They were playing on the Weasley's old quidditch pitch. They were organized into three groups of three - two groups on brooms that opposing one another, and another group, who were simply watching.

Evidently, they were playing quidditch.

They were not flying very high off of the ground, nor were they using any bludgers - a safety precaution because some of their players were very young.

Jamie Potter sat atop his Cleansweep 6, one of the best racing brooms on the market. His mother and father had bought it for him for his last birthday. He had wanted to wait until the new and much anticipated Cleansweep 7 came out next year and continue to use his old broom until it did, but his parents had put their foot down about it. Or more aptly put, his mother had.

All the same, it was a very good broom, bested only by the Nimbus brooms owned by Charlie and Bill - neither of whom were competing in the day's competition.

The children darted around on their brooms while Bill and Charlie supervised Isabelle Longbottom, the youngest member of the group. Isabelle was only a year younger than Ginny but she did not have the same passion for the game that Ginny did. Isabelle was content to watch as her friends and brother played - choosing instead to entertain herself with an art project she had been working on. She was hoping that her friend Luna would show up like she had a few times before - but her blonde friend was nowhere to be found today.

The game was going well. Both teams were rather skilled - with the exception of Neville although he was no slouch. Both Neville and Ron were splitting the roles of keeper and chaser for their respective teams - a common position for three member teams commonly referred to as a defensive chaser. Fred and George were the offensive chasers on either team - an entertaining sight by every definition of the word as it ignited a fierce competition between the two twins that was normally unimaginable. And while the chasers played, battling for domination over the quaffle, Jamie and Ginny battled it out chasing the snitch.

It was a relatively slow snitch, as far as snitches are concerned. But they did not want to spend all day chasing the damn thing.

It was not long past noon and the sun was high in the sky. Bill and Charlie were only wearing thick woolen sweaters their mother had knit for them - sapphire blue and emerald green respectively - having abandoned their winter cloaks when the sun had found its way into the clearing. Isabelle was wearing a lighter cloak that her mother had sent along with the group, having expected this very situation.

The match was heated. Both seekers had been chasing the snitch off and on for some time now, stopping when they got tired. The quaffle had not stood still for even a moment, and the score reflected this tight competition; Ginny's team having only a twenty point lead over Jamie's.

Just when the game seemed to be slowing down again the seekers spotted the snitch again and rocketed off after it. Ginny was very good for her age, and was easily keeping up with Jamie despite his newer and faster broom.

But not long into the chase Ginny lost control of her broom. It was not really clear how she had lost control of it, only that she had. Bill sprung from his seat at the side of the clearing to try and save her but it was too late - Ginny had already hit the ground by the time Bill made his way to her.

The game had already frozen around her. Neville and Jamie were hovering just barely above the ground, they were speechless and had horrified looks on their faces. Ginny's brothers were in a circle around her, silent with grave faces. Bill was checking her over carefully with diagnostic spells that made his wand and different parts of Ginny's body glow different colours. Charlie was instructing Isabelle to stay where she was.

"She has a few broken bones but she will be okay I think. All the same, we need to get her to mum right away." There was no discussion or dispute about Bill's orders, all the children were used to taking orders from Bill, their parents always left him in charge. Indeed, Bill was nearly as old as some of their parents. Bill and Charlie quickly cast a spell on Ginny, causing her to raise into the air and float as if on some invisible stretcher. The two men rushed toward the Weasley's home with their unconscious sister between them - a string of children running behind them.

-o-O-o-

The kitchen of the Weasley home stood in stark contrast to the orchard where the children played. The kitchen was the pride and joy of Molly Weasley. The family had managed to save up when Minister Dumbledore had promoted Arthur - substantially increasing the family's income. They'd had their once cosy kitchen significantly expanded, they installed longer stone countertops and large windows that let in plenty of light, bought a nice dining table made of a light grain wood with a very light stain, and they had even installed an extra-large breakfast nook. The large battered grandfather clock indicating the condition of all of the family members remained standing proudly where it always had. But despite all the changes and upgrades, Molly weasley's old cherry red kettle, a wedding present from Minister Dumbledore, sat proudly on her new stovetop as vibrant as the day she had received it.

Today Molly was entertaining some guests in her kitchen. Lily Potter, Alice Longbottom, and Marlene MacKinnon sat around the table of the particularly well lit breakfast nook with Molly. Each of them were nursing large cups of tea and snacking on various biscuits and pastries that were displayed on a large decorative plate in the centre of the table.

Currently the women were having an argument, though a friendly one, about women working. Or more specifically, Molly was berating Lily and Alice for not being stay at home moms, while trying to get Marlene who was childless, unmarried, and employed, to agree with her.

Lilly was sitting facing Molly, her back facing the windows that offered a view of the back yard. Her hands wrapped neatly around the large mug of tea that was in front of her, soaking in its warmth. As she spoke her tone was calm, if not a little annoyed. "Molly I just don't see the point in staying home when Remus is so willing to stay at home and take care of Jamie. This way everyone is happy, James gets to work with the aurors, I get to work on my research as an unspeakable, Remus gets to have an income and spend time with Jamie, and Jamie gets to spend time with his uncle Remus - who is also able to teach him I will remind you! Remus is just as clever as I am, if not moreso! Everybody wins in this situation."

Molly's rebuttal was quick. "You don't think that you would be capable of teaching him? The boy would be much better suited with you caring for him and acting as his teacher Lily! You're an unspeakable! You would deprive your child of the opportunity to be taught by an unspeakable? And besides, more importantly, children need their mothers!" Her voice held a tone of finality and she punctuated the final word with a soft rap of her knuckles against the table. They'd been having this argument for quite some time now and all parties involved were tiring of it quickly.

"I am depriving him of nothing and you know it! Remus is just as, if not more, intelligent than James and I are! He was top in our year Molly" Lily's tone was starting to get a bit of bite in it as she fended off Molly's verbal 'attack. Alice sat quietly to the side, watching the two argue. She agreed with Lily, but she had taken the year off when both of her children were born. Hoenstly she thought Molly's parenting style was kind of sweet.

"Marlene, Lily won't listen to me, she thinks I am just old fashioned - tell her! She will listen to you!" Molly turned to Marlene who had been sitting silently at the table staring into her mug of tea. She was clearly very distracted and had not been following the discussion for even a moment. When Molly caught her attention her expression betrayed her for a moment, it was clear she would rather be anywhere else in the world than right here, now, having this conversation.

"Huh, sorry?" Marlene asked sheepishly. Alice and Lily laughed at the their friend's inattentiveness, knowing full well why her head was in the clouds.

"I was just telling Lily how important it is that she stop working, at least for a while, and that she should be caring for Jamie full time. A boy ought to be raised by his mother! You obviously intend to stop working once you find a man to settle down with, don't you?"

Lily and Alice grinned at their friend, and seized the opportunity to change the subject. "Haven't you heard, Molly?" Lily asked in fake surprise. "Marlene has found a man!" Marlene smiled sheepishly at her friend, unsure if she should be annoyed that she would bring this topic up, or embarrassed that Lily was sharing information about her personal life.

"Oh my!" Molly exclaimed happily. "No I hadn't heard! Who is the lucky man Marlene? Oh my goodness, you have to tell us all about him!" Argument completely forgotten, Molly Weasley sat back with her tea, smiling, waiting to hear her good friend's good fortune.

"It seems" Lily began with a wide smile on her face in mockery of Marlene's modesty, " that Marlene is now seeing one Mr. Sirius Black!"

Molly's face was the picture of shock, but before she could reply to the news, the back door of the kitchen burst open.

"Mum, Ginny's hurt. I think she is okay but she needs to be seen to right away!" Bill ordered his mother's attention without batting an eye as he and Charlie gently lowered their spell to set their sister down in the middle of the Kitchen floor. To Molly's credit she didn't say a word and quickly saw to nursing her child back to health.

-o-O-o-

Yule had found them faster than any of them could anticipate. It was the 20th of December and their Yule celebrations were just a day away, to be followed by a ball they were hosting the following night.

As was tradition, Noctis was cozied up in his favourite chair in the library, a fire cracking merily in the nearby hearth. The elves had decorated some of the trees in the gardens surrounding Blackweald, and the lights were visible even high up from the library's windows.

Noctis looked out over the grounds, he was waiting patiently for his family to join him like they did on this night every year. The night before the solstice, before Yule, they would sit around the fire and tell stories about the family history (which was of course Noctis' favourite part), drink cocoa, and exchange their hand-made presents for one another. All considered, it was one of Noctis' favourite family traditions, competing only with their Walpurgis festivities and the night of Yule itself.

It was just getting past eight o'clock when his grandparents walked into the library. Noctis looked up from his book and smiled at them in greeting.

"Still working on Runes, Noctis?" Arcturus asked. Noctis had been reading basic books on runes for the past several months, he was particularly fascinated by Norse ruins, but his passion extended to the other kinds as well. He could be seen all over the estate working on them, carving them into inert clay that his grandmother provided for him. She would judge them carefully and give him tips - being a runemaster herself Noctis was particularly lucky to have her guidance.

"Just more information about the origins of Norse runes. I want to know more about them but it is hard to find books about them." Noctis's brow was furrowed in frustration as he slipped a bookmark between his pages and set the book on the table beside him. He was so bizarrely mature whenever he was talking about books and learning.

"Noctis darling, didn't I give you a list of books you could use, surely one of them could answer your questions?" Analise looked a little concerned. "Did you check Thedeous' Encyclopedia of Runes?" She asked kindly. "I would never have finished my mastery without it."

"I tried but it was too confusing. There are a lot of words in it that I don't understand." Analise smiled sympathetically at her young great-grandson turned student.

"It will come in time, I'm sure. You are still very young for this material Noctis." Arcturus piped in, dismissing Noctis's frustration but wearing a proud look on his face nonetheless. Noctis seemed to exceed Arcturus' every spectation, even those he did not voice to the boy.

Noctis simply smiled politely, still clearly frustrated with his lack of progress. "Where is Sirius?" Noctis asked after a moment of silence.

The expressions on both their faces quickly fell and they exchanged a quick pained look, but they recovered quickly. "I don't think Sirius is coming this year Noctis" Analise said softly.

Noctis' face twisted into some unrecognizable expression at the news."But… Why not? We always do this the night before Yule. It is tradition, he must be here." Noctis' tone didn't leave much room for question.

"We're not sure Noctis, he didn't tell us anything. We searched for him on the way to the library but the elves said that he wasn't in the manor." Noctis only looked more worried following his grandfather's answer. "I'm sure he is okay Noctis, maybe he is just running a little late." Arcturus offered.

Noctis nodded and tried to smile warmy in response to his grandfather's reassurance but it wasn't very convincing.

The group sat around in silence for a few more moments letting Noctis adjust to the news until they were interrupted by an elf popping into the room and delivering a tray of hot cocoa to the long table in the centre of the reading nook's sitting arrangement. Noctis' head shot up in excitement when he first heard the elf thinking that it might be Sirius, only to be disappointed.

Analise served them all a large mug of cocoa, and placed a large marshmallow in Noctis' like he always asked for. Charlie Weasley, of all people, had turned him onto that combination last winter, it was something he had learned from the muggles apparently.

"I guess we can begin with the storytelling!" Arcturus announced, speaking to neither of them in particular.

Noctis, disappointment at Sirius' absence temporarily forgotten, smiled widely and curled up in his chair.

"Have I ever told you story about Blackweald's first Yule?" Analise smiled, having heard this story many times while it was being told to her own children and grandchildren. Noctis, however, shook his head in excitement.

"It was a very long time ago, as you know. Canis' son Vega was our ancestor who built Blackweald, and so this story has been passed down from him. I'm sure I've mentioned this to you before. Blackweald became a part of the family after Vega fell in love with a woman named Cathbad, the daughter of a druid Chieftain. The forest all around us, and even the lands further, all belonged to a group of Druids that were known for their love of the more mysterious forms of magic. Though I do concede the forest is substantially different than it once was. The druids who owned these lands were not warriors like many others in those times, they were most interested in exploring the complexities of magic, and in return for peace with other druid groups and being excused from their politics and wars they would heal the sick and teach the most promising of everyone's magical children."

Arcturus paused for a moment just long enough to take a deep drink from his cocoa and follow it with a deep steadying breath.

"It had been a very hard year for Vega and his family - they'd left the lands they had called home for centuries and came to lands entirely new to them. Our dining hall and some of the attached rooms were the first thing they had built, except it was not a dining hall then but rather their main lodging; it was a rather modest stone structure. They brought the stone with them from Saxony, and it was allegedly quarried from the bed of the great river that ran through their lands to the east. When our ancestors got to England, they didn't yet know enough about our lands here to quarry more stone that would work with the family magics. That caused Vega and one of his brothers to begin going on expeditions, scouting the land to find useful resources and potential neighbours and allies. Much to their surprise, the forest they had decided to settle in and claim was not uninhabited as they expected. It turns out the forest belonged to the band of druids that Vega later married into. Fortunately for them, these druids, as I mentioned, were not much interested in fighting or conflict. The druids had decided to simply watch and observe the newcomers to their lands. They were fascinated by the magic they witnessed our family perform. One of the surviving records I have located suggest that the druids were particularly interested with the connection our family has with night, and the stars. The druids were particularly fascinated by Vega and his brother's use of rituals to draw power from the stars to aid them in building Blackweald. Over late summer and autumn they began to build a relationship with the druids. Vega was particularly taken with the chief's daughter, Cathbad, and Vega's brother Cygnus with another druid woman; much to the displeasure of their mother - I should add! In Vega's journal he notes that their mother was scandalized that they both decided to partner with druid women rather than women from the old world. Vega and Cathbad had grown very close very quickly, and spent many days teaching one another the magics they had learnt and been taught by others over their lives. Cathbad was a very powerful priestess; she was well suited for Vega, who was one of our more powerful ancestors. They spent most of their days together adventuring around the isles. Exploring caves and ruins, visiting sacred forests and wild gardens." Arcturus noticed the wonder the decorated Noctis' face at hearing this, the boy had an appetite for adventure and Arcturus knew that Noctis would be a handful once he started school and could perform magic on his own.

"They bonded just before sunrise on the first day of winter, their first Yule, just several months after they had met. Cathbad's father and Vega's mother performed the ceremony together, using a mixture of druidic magic and the traditional magics of our family. Vega writes that it was a beautiful ceremony, they did it in a grove of nearby evergreen trees that are in a small valley... just west of here actually. I will take you there one day Noctis, my grandparents got married there and we would gather there every year for their anniversary."

Noctis smiled at this idea, his taste for adventure urging him forward.

"After their bonding ceremony they came back to Blackweald and planted some of the more ancient trees that grow here. Mostly magical species that they had collected samples from on their adventures, but some more mundane ones also. It was an uncharacteristically warm December that year, and everything was still relatively green, and the ground still soft. Vega noted some time later in his journal that that was the year the forest began to attract more magical creatures, and some of the more colourful birds that call it home. But one of those birds was one of the most bizzare creatures Vega had ever seen - a very large Raven, with some of its wing feathers tinged a deep forest green. They saw the bird perched on top of the tree they had collected for Yule - in those days they would burn an entire tree rather than just a log, and that year they had selected a large oak tree from the grounds. After their Yule feast the entire family came outside to start the ritual and burn the tree, only to find that mighty bird atop it, staring down at them all. They tried to scare if off, of course, but the bird refused to leave the oak tree. They surrendered to the bird, and the family cut a different tree while the bird watched in silence. Since then our family has never burned oak for Yule, believing the bird to have been an omen."

Memories of a large black bird flashed across Noctis's memory but were quickly forgotten. He asked his grandfather a few questions that were quickly answered. Noctis was just starting to get sleepy again when he remembered the presents he had made and hidden behind his chair when he got to the library. With a wide grin he jumped up and collected them, then placed them all on the table in front of their recipient's seats; even Sirius' sat there. They were wrapped in a dark red coloured paper, clearly wrapped by a child, but it added a sort of charm. Arcturus and Analise looked at each other in wonder at what the gifts might be.

Analise opened hers first. She tore away the paper to reveal what appeared to be a wooden claw with a flat base that wrapped up and around a roughly spherical ball of white stone. Analise looked at it confused, until she noticed runes carved into the wood and stone. It took her a moment, but after her examination she took the stone out, turned it over, and placed it back into the claw-like socket. The stone illuminated brightly - revealing the present to be a lamp.

Analise was absolutely delighted. "Noctis! This is incredible work for someone of your age!" Her praise was genuine and the pride clear on her face. "I love it, it is beautiful."

Noctis glowed at the praise but didn't reply, choosing to just turn to watch his grandfather open his next.

Arcturus tore into his own gift with excitement revealing another device of some sort made of wood and stone, just like Analise's. Arcturus' however looked much different - more like some sort of box with stone embellishments. Arcturus examined his own present for a few moments just like his wife had, before decidedly tapping the box with his wand. It opened with a quiet click, revealing a compartment inside large enough to store something about the size of Arcturus' fist.

Noctis grinned when the box opened as it was supposed to, he was not able to open it to test it or else the box would have bonded to him and not its recipient.

"Noctis this is amazing!" Arcturus exclaimed, carefully examining all the little runes carved into the box.

Analise echoed her husband's praise, similarly examining the runework of the box.

The old couple quickly recovered, but the pride was still clear on their faces. "Time for our gifts to you!" Analise said with a smile. She snapped her fingers and two rectangular gifts appeared on the table in front of Noctis, wrapped neatly and crisply in the same paper he had used.

Noctis opened the first one that was nearest his grandmother. The paper fell away as he tore into it, revealing a leather bound book with no title on the cover - it looked like more of a journal really. He opened the front cover and inspecting the front page. He found his grandmother's elegant cursive across the middle of the page, reading "A basic Encyclopedia of the History and Usage of Norse Runes." Noctis whooped with joy and immediately opened the book to thumb through the pages.

"You can read it later darling." Analise laughed at the child's excitement.

"Sorry Grandma I am just very excited." Noctis' apology was half hearted, but he politely closed the book nonetheless and stroked the spine affectionately. He placed it on end table next to his chair with his other reading projects and then excited grabbed the next, similarly shaped package and ripped it open. Inside was a nearly identical journal, with different colour trim than the one his grandmother had given him.

He opened the journal to the front page just like the one before it, to reveal his grandfather's more sharp and angular script across the top reading: "Adventures and Stories From My Youth." Noctis thumbed through the book just like he had for the last one and found it to be filled with stories about from his grandfather's life that he had never told him.

He looked up with a wide smile but forgoed a thank you, instead choosing to run over and give both his grandparents a tight hug.

Yule was Noctis' favourite time of year.

-o-O-o-

It was much later in the evening when Sirius Black stumbled through the fireplace and into the private receiving hall of his family's ancient home. He had managed not to fall over this time, a recent development, but a monumental accomplishment all the same considering how much he had had to drink that night.

Sirius stood there for a moment, wobbling unsteadily while he rubbed his hands over his face, smearing soot over his sharp petrarchan features. "I need a better way of travelling after a few fire whiskeys…" he drunkenly mumbled to no one in particular,.

"One might also recommend not getting so intoxicated, it is unbecoming of your station." His grandmother's crisp voice answered. The man staggered for a moment looking around the large hall for where her voice had come from. He finally spotted her standing on a balcony connecting two sets of stairs that overlooked the hall. She was wearing a flowing nightgown made of a pastel blue material. Her arms were crossed across her chest, and her face was pulled into a tight expression of disappointment.

"S-sorry if I woke yah." Sirius drunkenly slurred his words. He stumbled forward and made it halfway up the staircase before having to stop - wobbling backward perilously.

"You don't owe me any apologies. It is Noctis you have disappointed the most this evening Sirius." Analie didn't speak to him with the same warmth that normally existed in her voice. Her disappointment was clear. She didn't wait for Sirius to reply, choosing to simply turn after finishing her words and gauging the look on his face. She swept out of the room swiftly, the hem of her nightgown trailed behind her.

Sirius staggered for a few moments longer as he swallowed the tight ball that had formed in his throat. He took a few deep breaths and trudged forward, pushing himself to his bedroom. He made it, eventually, and slipped inside closing the door quietly behind him.

Sirius derobed letting his clothes fall to the floor behind him as he trudged to his bed. Normally the house elves would be by to pick them up behind him before he woke up. But they wouldn't be tonight, they were loyal to Noctis, who spoke politely with them, taught them to read, and played games with their children. No, they were in Noctis' pocket and if anyone crossed him, they immediately found their lives much more tedious than they were acustomed.

Sirius flopped down onto his bed and let out a loud grown into his pillow. The hangover was already starting. Sirius rolled over and tossed his wand to the bedside table. It collided clumsily with a picture of him and Marlene dancing with each other at a ball a few weeks earlier.

What Sirius didn't notice, in his inebriated state, was the present Noctis had left for him on his bed, since knocked to the floor. The paper had managed to come loose somehow, exposing the present; it was a picture frame made of the same stone and wood as the presents he had made for his grandparents, only this time it took the form of a picture frame. Inside the frame was a picture of him and serious that Noctis had clearly drawn himself, likely from reference. It was an admittedly good job for a child of Noctis' age. What made this present special though, was the frame it was in. Runes were carved over nearly every part of the frame's surface animating the drawing inside.

As the real Sirius fell into a deep drunken sleep, the Sirius that Noctis had drawn threw a younger Noctis into the air, never failing to catch him when he fell.

A/N:  
Hope you enjoyed, please review. Happy holidays!


	9. Eleven at Last (Part I)

A/N:

Clearly I am unreliable for updates. I apologize that I am like this, haha. It looks like chapters are going to stay a bit short for the time being, again, apologies.

 **Chapter Nine: Eleven at Last**

It was the end of July and the summer sun blazed brightly, and blisteringly, above them. It had to be the hottest day of the year, but none of them had bothered to actually check. Currently Blackweald was empty, its residents having opted to sit in outside instead and enjoy the beautiful summer day, even if it was a bit hot.

There actually happened be a fairly large crowd in Blackweald's largest garden. The garden was outlined by high, and perfectly tamed hedges. Large flower bushes, some muggle some magical, added colour and texture to the large garden, while fruit trees were scattered throughout the garden, offering their shade to several table settings. At the centre of the garden was a moderately sized pool styled as a pond; the pond happened to be occupied by half a dozen squealing children at the moment.

Several women and a few men were seated around one of the larger tables, it was an elegant glass and pewter specimen that sat in the shade of some of a large cherry tree. The group were having quite an animated discussion, sipping on icy-cool beverages and snacking on a spread of light refreshments provided by the Black's houselves.

By all interpretations, it was a perfectly normal birthday party for a seemingly perfectly normal eleven year old boy.

Noctis was at the centre of the attention in the pond. He and his friends, or at least his best friend Aimus Bones and the children of his grandfather's allies, were tossing around large balls that flashed colours mid-air, and changed courses erratically. Whenever one of the balls touches the surface of the pond it would explode with a loud pop and soak all of the children.

Their game continued for quite sometime, until one of the younger girls, Astoria Greengrass, suddenly decided she was finished playing and got out of the pond to sit near her mother who was sitting at the large table with the other ladies. The game didn't last much longer after that, with Astoria's sister and their new friend, a pale girl with long orange hair followed them out. The orange-haired girl was new to them, and all of the children had thought to ask the newcomer's name.

"I suppose you're all finished soaking one another to the bone then?" Analise smiled warmly at the children, a twinkle in her eye as she surveyed the soaking youngsters who were toweling themselves off half-heartedly.

The small orange-haired girl was the only one to reply. "I'm sorry if we were bothering you Lady B-"

"No no, perish the thought young Genevra you were doing no such thing. Children's laughter is music to my ears." The girl blushed in response but was quickly saved by the other girls who pulled her away to join their small group sitting around one of the smaller nearby tables.

Aimus and Noctis had already wandered away from the other children, and were carting off a small platter of sandwiches and fruit to a picnic blanket laying in the shade of the large tree nearest the lake.

Aimus and Noctis were close friends but they couldn't have appeared less similar. While Noctis was tall and thin with black hair, Aimus was of average height for his age and had a much more athletic build and his nearly blood red hair highlighting the stark-whiteness of his skin. Their paleness was the only physical trait the boys shared beyond their sharp angular faces typical of the ancient families.

Despite their differences they had been close since before their first birthdays; assured by the close relationship between their two families. Whenever they were together they chattered excitedly about who knew what. The two had appeared to have made up their own language or some kind of code, their guardians, or even Aimus's sister who the two boys were also close to, could never could understand them. The truth of it was actually much similar, they just never needed to speak in complete sentences because the other normally knew what was about to be said, and how the other would react.

-o-O-o-

The afternoon was in its final hours when a large barn owl swooped down through the sky. It scanned the garden attentively before its eyes narrowed on Noctis, who was still curled under the large tree near the lake, chattering excitedly with Aimus. He had gotten dressed again since first sitting down for his picnic under the tree - and both boys were wearing similar loose fitting button up shirts that caught the breeze. They were both in shades of grey, but they looked almost silver in the afternoon light.

The owl swooped down and perched in front of Noctis with wide eyes, staring at the young boy with wide eyes. Noctis stared back, unmoving.

The owl had also caught the attention of the rest of the garden's occupants, and a polite applause broke out, as was custom in their culture when a child received their hogwarts letter on their eleventh birthday.

Noctis still didn't move a muscle, he simply stared back into the wide and unflinching amber eyes of the barn owl. Before long Aimus shifted and placed his hand reassuringly on Noctis' shoulder, probably having sensed that his friend was overcome. Suddenly, Noctis' face broke into a large crooked smile and he let out a cry of joy. The owl was particularly unhappy with being startled, but everyone else in the garden laughed in amusement of the boy's excitement.

Noctis scrambled forward and retrieved the letter from the owl, dismissing it with a kind smile and soft ruffle of the feathers between its wings; it took off indignantly nonetheless. Noctis sprinted across the yard to where Arcturus was sitting with Lord Bones. Both men had proud smiles on their faces as they watched the young boy barrel toward them in excitement. Aimus followed just behind him - and behind Aimus Noctis' grandmother was sweeping over to congratulate the boy.

"I suppose we'll be heading to Diagon Alley tomorrow, won't we Noctis?"

Noctis smiled happily at his grandfather's words but he was too busy excitedly reading his Hogwarts letter to give much more of a reaction. He always knew this day would come, and he always knew the letter would accompany it. But that didn't take away the magic of the moment for him. The day had finally arrived, he was finally eleven, and would be heading to Hogwarts in just just a few short weeks.

-o-O-o-

Arcturus, Analise, and Noctis marched down Diagon Alley just like they had any other time, their faces impassive and coached into their normal stern demeanor. Sirius had been accompanying them less frequently lately, opting to spend more time with his new fiance, Marlene MacKinnon. But they made an impressive unit without the man nonetheless.

The alley was damp and there were puddles in some of the shallower spots. Some of the storefronts were slightly damaged, but for the most part the various shopkeepers had already repaired their storefronts. Like every other year, they'd had a wicked storm late the night before that lasted until the early hours of the morning. The cloud cover was only just clearing away now.

Noctis' hair was pulled back in a style much like his grandfather's, save for a single strand of hair that was braided around his hairline much like a small intricate crown. Similar style was traditional for the ancient children and he was actually kind of fond of it.. Noctis adjusted his new robes just slightly, they were black, of course, with a silver silk lining and bronze trim, a detail symbolizing he had left the silver trim of childhood behind and had now been invited to Hogwarts.

Since Noctis had finally made this step, they were logically on their way to make one more, similarly important step. They were on their way to Ollivander's shop to get Aimus his first wand.

As the three entered the shop another family, three generations of men with golden blonde hair, were just leaving. The three men quickly stepped aside and the eldest man bowed deeply toward Arturus - a sign of deference and respect to the older, considerably more powerful, man. Clearly they were one of the lesser houses that Arcturus had business dealings with. Noctis could not place them but he had seen the eldest before. "Well wishes young Thestral, and the constellations who stand guard." The seemingly bizarre greeting was a customary one to use when greeting a child of the the Peverell line, and mentioning the "constellation" was of course a nod to the Black family. The man was definitely an associate of Arcturus.

Arcturus nodded politely to the man, who remained in his deep bow. "Well received Nimbus, I look forward to seeing you in the upcoming months." Arcturus gave the man a meaningful look that was lost on the companions of both men.

"I thank you for your wishes Nimbus, is one of my future peers?" Some might have considered Noctis brave for addressing the eldest golden haired man simply as Nimbus - forgoing his title. Only the lords of the ancient houses could do such a thing, but considering who raise the boy none were surprised.

"Indeed, this is Joshua Nimbus, he will be joining you this year at Hogwarts." If the man had taken offence to the boy not using his title it certainly did not show on his face.

The boy in question, Joshua, nodded politely and mimicked his grandfather's bow, though his loose mane of golden curls made the gesture look decidedly less refined.

Noctis didn't reply, deferring instead to his grandfather. But before Arcturus could politely end the conversation Nimbus spoke up. "I will see you around, Lord Black. We have much to discuss." Arcturus merely nodded at the man, signalling he was dismissed as he turned to continue into Ollivander's with his family.

They were greeted instantly as they entered the ancient wand shop. "Well met brothers" Lord Ollivander said, emerging from behind to particularly high shelves of wands.

"Well met brother" both Arcturus and Noctis responded simultaneously. The houses of Ollivander and Black or Peverell had never been close, and they had not intermarried in well over a millennia, but there was a sacred respect and camaraderie between them as members of the Ancient and Noble houses.

"And you, priestess. It is a pleasure to have one of your learning grace my establishment." Ollivander smiled warmly at Analise, wandmakers had always held the utmost respect for the old ways and his fellow practitioners of the old smiled in returned but chose to remain silent, not an uncommon decision for her, or any woman of her abilities.

"If I'm not mistaken that storm last night coincided with the anniversary of your birth, young Noctis." Ollivander had turned his gaze to the youngest among them. Noctis looked visibly nervous, but he nodded at the older wizard. He was no stranger, and he had been in the old wandmakers company many times. But not matter how well he knew the old man, he was still nervous as any witch or wizard would be when getting their wand.

"Yes, Lord Ollivander" Noctis answered, stepping forward bravely.

"An omen if there ever was ong, young Thestral. An omen indeed." Ollivander's voice softened as he finished the statement, his attention seeming to drift away along with the firmness in his tone. Analise nodded decisively at his word, but chose to remain silent still.

Noctis just remained silent, only half listening to the adults now because of his nerves. He too a deep breath and squared his jaw like his grandfather had taught him, before finally looking up into Ollivander's eyes.

"I have come for my birthright, brother." Noctis spoke the formal words that any of his station would say to the wandmarker, the same words his grandfather had said many decades ago, and his ancestors before him. The words were now ritual, and they entered the two into a magical contract.

"Of course, stormborn. Of course." The wizened old wand maker reached under the counter and pulled out a small stone chest. He opened it revealing several wands in slender wooden boxes. This morning he had taken the liberty of assembling some of the more likely choices, having anticipated this visit.

One by one he handed the wands to Noctis, who would swish and flick them at a wooden sphere at the end of the counter. Some of them produced various levels of results, but he passed them back to the wand maker all the same, none were quite right.

The process continued and eventually Ollivander was running along the aisles of shelves in the back of his shop. Bringing boxes forward to Noctis to try. Arcturus and Analise sat politely in the corner of the shop chatting pleasantly about nothing in particular. None of them grew impatient because of how important they knew this task to be, and Ollivander seemed to be invigorated by the challenge.

"Oak." Analise said decisively, loud enough Ollivander to hear also. It was uncommon for someone to make a recommendation like that to a wandmaker, but the wandmaker didn't seem to care - instead he had frozen in place as he considered Analise's suggestion.

"Unusual wood for a wand, but perhaps, yes, given the storms… Thank you priestess. Yes. Oak… but what else?" Ollivander dashed to the back of the shop and could be heard conjuring a ladder to scramble up to the top of the shelf - surprisingly spry for his age.

When he returned he was carrying an armful of wands. He came to the front and let the small wooden boxes spill over the countertop.

He passed one to Noctis, who pointed it at the wooden sphere and gave it a swish. It started spinning but faltered quickly.

"Aha!" Ollivander cried, he swept several of the boxes to the side, leaving just four of the many he had brought with him. He handed another box to Noctis, who opened the box and took out the wand inside. It was light grained, very long, and strangely thin. Noctis smiled when he picked it up and waved it at the sphere. There was a bright flash of light and an accompanying boom - when they opened their eyes the sphere was scarred with burn marks like lightning bolts.

"A match if there ever was one, young Thestral. And well suited too - Sessile Oak and hair from the mane of an ancient thestral - yes one wonders at the symbolism…" Ollivander rambled at the counter but no one seemed to be paying him much attention. Noctis was staring at his want adoringly with a wicked smile on his face while his grandparents watched on, a curious but proud look on their faces - especially Analise.

-o-O-o-

Some time later, after taking Noctis to the bookstore and after running some other errands he and Analise had needed to complete, he sent his wife and grandchild off. Leaving him to complete the next step of what his family only knew as his "mysterious project."

Arcturus Black strode into Gringotts with a grim determination seeming, to the public at least, characteristic of his person. Only a few heads turned as he marched across the large opulent atrium of the bank to the teller stationed on a high podium opposite to the doors. The goblin who worked at the station seemed particularly old, his face seemingly made or wrinkles that looked so natural one might think the goblin had always looked that way. His long hooked nose supported a small pair of spectacles, the outside edges of which supported an arm holding various magnifying lenses.

Before Arcturus had even opened his mouth the goblin set down his work, the thick ledger he had been holding was covered in odd scaley leather, all of the parchment contained within were neatly arranged and a consistent colour save for several parchments that peaked out of the back cover. The old goblin nodded to the tall lord after looking him in the eye for just a moment. They exchanged no words, but operated in a silent camaraderie facilitated by their previous encounters, and correspondence via owl post. Two guards moved to allow them to pass into the vault tunnel system and the two climbed into one of the nicer looking minecarts, outfitted with cushioned seats.

Neither of them said much as they began their descent into the bowels of the bank. They both knew it would be a very long ride indeed, and both were content to ride in silence until necessary; as they had most other times making this same trip. The sped past the vaults and near breakneck speeds, having finally finished passing through the unmarked, newly constructed, vaults reserved for new customers. As they continued downward the air grew cooler and dryer.

After navigating several forks in the rails Arcturus and the old goblin found themselves heading off the rails for what appeared to be a dead-end, only to flow through the cave wall seamlessly and follow the tracks in a steep winding descent as if they had never left the tracks to begin with - and in fact they had not. Arcturus knew the spot well, and appreciated it as one of the finer security elements of the bank. Few would know to look for such walls, fewer still would know where they were.

The trip was much faster after this point, it allowed them to bypass more than a dozen floors of vaults belonging to lesser families and small businesses. As they barreled along Arcturus noticed that the torches along the hall must have been recently replaced - they burned brighter and higher than they had just a few days when he'd last visited one of his family vaults. The well lit caves walls were a whole other experience - allowing Arcturus to make out tool marks for just a split second before being forced to abandon the sight due to speed at which they travelled.

"Which vault will it be this time, Lord Black?" The goblin's voice was strangely ungoblin-like, Arcturus found it comforting.

"The deepest today, Maltrunk. I'm searching for an artifact that has been overlooked over the centuries - but I am confident I will find it today." Arcturus spoke casually, trusting the goblin with far more information that he had entrusted with any of his contemporaries. Even his own wife was unsure what his "special project" entailed, only that he had been working on it since discovering a book from one of his ancestors two years ago. He had made several trips to the bank now, looking through the vaults of the Black family for other books and artifacts referenced in his search.

Arcturus was not even certain himself what he was looking for, save that he would find it in a "medium-sized" chest made of the same stone that made up his ring, and the door protecting his vault, and that the chest was trimmed with gold. His research indicated that it predated his ancestor's time living in Greece. This day was a long time coming.

As they descended they passed through, and by, various security measures. He was doused in the enchantment stripping waterfall and eyed by a large dragon as they sped by, they had passed through several hidden portals of seemingly solid rock, but none of this phased Arcturus. He was well used to it at this point and could probably navigate the caverns on his own given the chance.

Finally, after what felt like an hour but was surely less, the cart began to slow. The air was no longer cold and dry but hot and slightly moist. Exotic mosses and other plants thickly lined the cave walls, giving them a colourful appearance while also helping to reduce the echoing of the cart grinding along the tracks. Indeed this floor of the bank was eerily quiet, and they passed through it slowly - only serving to emphasize the strange subterranean world's ambiance even more. Their cart rattled along the tracks for a few more moments before stopping in front of a large vault door made of an almost void-like black stone. The vault door was trimmed with ornate decorative carvings made of the same reddish-brown rock that made up the cave around them.

The two climbed out of the cart and walked up to the large vault. Maltrunk waited several lengths back, as was customary for vaults this deep in the bank. They were from another age altogether and their existence was known to few, they were more ancient than any others. They of course, belonged to the Most Ancient and Noble houses.

Arcturus approached his family's vault and pressed his Lord's ring against the void-like stone sealing the vault. It shimmered for a moment as if millions of tiny stars had suddenly ignited within the stone, before it seemed to evaporate into the similar stone of Arcturus' ring.

Now revealed, within the vault, were some of the oldest and most valuable artifacts owned by the Black family. Much more precious than their fortune. Tomes, scrolls and tablets lined the walls of the ancient cavernous hall-turned-vault. Chests and shelves lined the centre of the hall, creating aisles to walk down as one perused the artifacts contained within. Several were locked in cases, others simply resting on the shelves exposed to the open air. It would be impossible for anyone to read all the tomes in the ancient library, or to understand all the artifacts; but Arcturus was more accomplished than most that had came before him; and he had been blessed with a particularly long life so far.

Arcturus nodded to himself and began his search. It would not do to dawdle now, he had an enormous vault to search, tomes to collect, and an ancient artifact to find.

Some time later he emerged from the vault, carrying four items. A chest made of the same void-like black stone as his ring that was trimmed in gold, an ancient looking scroll-box decorated with gold in a similar style to the chest, and two considerably more recent, though still very old, tomes. Arcturus was certain Noctis would be excited about his special birthday present, but he was even more sure that he was more excited to renew his quest to discover what this ancient object was.


	10. August (Part I)

**A/N:** Thanks everyone for your continued support. I try to reply to every review with a private message, so if you'd like a response to your review please log in and ensure messages are enabled! p.s. look! This update didn't take months!

 **Chapter 10: August**

Eleven-year-old Jamie Potter laid on his back staring up discontentedly at the ceiling. If one did not know better they might think that the ceiling had done him some great insult or disservice. But the ceiling was not to blame for Jamie's frustrations, not this time at least. No, his father was the source of this particular moment's problem.

His parents had always been very cagey when discussing Jamie's brother. Jamie didn't even know he _had_ a brother until he was old enough to read and saw a picture of the boy, who did share quite a bit of resemblance to him, when scanning the daily prophet for the Quidditch scores. The picture was captioned saying that the boy's name was Noctis. He didn't immediately ask his parents about it, but eventually, it caved away at him and he had asked.

They were not very forthcoming with information. While his mother's face instantly went dark and her focus slipped, his father's grew angry. "That boy is no brother of yours Jamie, he is _dark,_ that son of a b-..." he remembered his father pausing, looking a bit sheepish, before finally finishing his sentence "Black."

Every other attempt Jamie had made to learn more about his brother was met with stony silence or dismissal. He did not really understand why his parents hated him so much. And he didn't understand why the boy didn't live with them. He understood that the boy was dark, but he didn't grasp why that meant he had to be a secret, why Jamie could never meet him even once, why that trumped family. He huffed in frustration and threw the last of his many pillows at the wall in frustration. It impacted the wall with a heavy thud, knocked a quaffle off the nearby shelf, and then promptly landed on top of the quaffle.

Jamie was particularly annoyed today because he had seen Noctis in person for the first time in his life, but before he got the chance to even consider how to approach the other boy his father was pulling him and his mother, who had frozen in spot, by the arm in the opposite direction. He knew that there was no way Noctis had noticed him, and somehow that made it even worse. He let out a long frustrated groan.

As soon as they flooed back to their home, immediately after they had spotted Noctis in Ollivander's, his father had marched him home and sent him to his room, where he had remained ever since.

Lily, however, had walked, or more accurately wandered, into the kitchen and sat at the table. It did not take long for a house elf to appear with a cup of tea; Lily accepted it with none of her usual kindness, just a slight smile of thanks.

Jamie also had no idea why his mother had gotten so upset, he was just confused. Young Jamie Potter turned over so he was face down against his mattresses and he screamed into it, slamming his fists down into it, a tantrum quickly approaching. At least this tantrum would be in private.

Meanwhile downstairs a similar situation was developing.

James sat at the table with a glass of firewhiskey while Lily sat polishing off her second cup of tea. "The nerve of them to dress him in such a way. Who do they think they are?! They are no better than us!" James was completely incensed for no apparent reason, and was ranting his frustrations out at Lily, who did not seem to particularly care or even to hear him.

"We should have known before we even got close to the shop, I could feel their dark magic even from outside but I just never took notice." The angry dark-haired man took a large mouthful of whiskey and swallowed it without taking the time to even taste it. "We should have paid better attention! What if they had stolen Jamie too like they stole Noctis!" James continued to rant, his voice was booming by now.

If James had been paying any attention to his wife he probably would have noticed Lily flinch at the word stolen, but as it was the man was too caught up in himself to notice.

"And to think, they are going to be at Hogwarts together this year! The thought makes me sick to my stomach, but at least we know Jamie will not have to share a house with that… that dark _beast_." James nearly spat the new title he had assigned his "stolen" progeny; somewhat confusingly he couldn't seem to decide between being disgusted with the boy for being dark, or disgusted with the Black family for being dark and "stealing" him. "There is no way that it will be sorted into Gryffindor like our Jamie, so at least they will be separated and protected."

Lily's didn't break her silence, or even actually listen to James' tirade. She had heard it all before and had very different opinions than her husband, arguing with him only made him... worse. She also seemed to remember the circumstances of Har-... Noctis' birth much better than her husband. Their _dear_ friend Minister Dumbledore had cast their child away, proclaiming that he was dark. The Blacks had not stolen him like her husband seemed to believe. She had no idea how the babe had ended up in their care, but if anything, they had rescued the baby from one of the most barbaric practices she had ever seen. 'Godric's rights' her arse, there was nothing brave, noble, or even compassionate about sacrificing a newborn to the elements, regardless of the child's nature.

She missed her child. He dreams were haunted by the child, Harry, that the strangers had named Noctis. She wasn't haunted by his memory, his birth would never be enough to haunt her despite the pain and trauma of having him ripped away from her. No, the imagination of all the possibilities that would never _be_ is what haunted her. Futures that could never be because Albus had made them reject their child. That is what haunted her. She would wake up in the night in a cold sweat fighting back tears because of a dream of reading both her children bedtime stories, of the two of them playing by the lake, of sending them off to Hogwarts together.

Lily hadn't been able to look at Jamie for months after his birth without sobbing. She had felt near paralyzing guilt ever since that night; she had never been the same. Something her husband, of course, blamed on birthing such dark magic into the world; he claimed it had scarred her, left some taint. They consulted Dumbledore and he had only affirmed James' suspicions. Madam Pomfrey had been in the room at the time, Lily had intended to have the matron assess her but James had intervened and called Dumbledore claiming 'only the best for my wife!' or some such chivalrous claim. The matron only stared at Lily with sad eyes the entire time; not needing words to diagnose and communicate what she believed to be the issue. Lily knew that she was right.

Seeing Noctis today had dredged up all of these feelings. Feelings she would have preferred not to feel, to have left locked away, inaccessible in her past. She had to be present for Jamie, she had to be a good mother for him, and a good wife for her husband. But it was hard. Normally her only recourse was to throw herself into her work with the department of mysteries; since the birth of her children, she had progressed from being an entry-level researcher to the assistant director for the study of time.

Over the last few years she had begin to feel like herself again more and more. Seeing mentions of Noctis in the newspaper no longer hurt as much as they once did, and her secret hatred for Dumbledore was manageable. She could pretend not to notice either of them, pretend not to be in agony at the thought of them. She had even considered having another child, something her husband had never stopped begging her for. And that's when it came to her, that was the answer. If there was a hole in her heart, all she needed to do was fill it.

Lily's body went rigid for a moment as she snapped back into the moment, James' words actually making their way into her head now. She still didn't pay them any heed though.

"James" Lily began, he tone even but volume still muted.

James' stopped his rant, his booming voice fading away into an inquisitive look directed at his wife.

"I think it is time." Lily began. "I think I'm ready to have another child."

-o-O-o-

It had been over two weeks since Noctis' birthday, and the boy could barely contain his excitement as each day passed, in _weeks_ he would be a Hogwarts student… in just a few short weeks he would start the greatest journey he had ever dreamed of.

He had just woken up, it was still early in the morning and he could hear birds singing in the distance. His windows were open and his curtains were drawn open around them already, likely Dobby's doing. The elf had to have been in the room not long ago, he had left some sliced strawberries and a glass of water for his young charge.

Noctis had introduced a new tradition to his morning routine since getting his wand. Every morning he would wake up, and after taking care of his typical morning needs and washing, he would sit try his hardest to cast a simple fire charm. His grandmother had taught him the basics of the spell, saying that it would be better to be able to cast magic with his wand before going to Hogwarts, so he had a better idea what to expect. She had also said something about the importance of discovering it for himself, instead of being shown how to do it, but he wasn't exactly sure what she had meant by that. Luckily for him, Blackweald was completely inaccessible to the ministry and all of their forms of surveillance just as the homes of the other ancient families were, so they had no idea what magic was being performed anywhere near the ancestral home of the Blacks.

Noctis wasn't sure what to make of his grandmother telling them that this practice would give him an idea of what to expect of learning magic at Hogwarts. Judging from his experience thus far, what he could expect was frustration! After two weeks of trying to cast the spell for a least an hour every day he had only succeeded in singeing a piece parchment in a couple places, and he had produced a spark two mornings ago - but it had quickly petered out. Despite that, the spark had burnt the tiniest of holes in the far corner of the parchment, and Noctis treated that hole like it was a gold medal. Unfortunately, since then he had not been able to replicate the results.

But not one to be deterred by failure, Noctis carried on. And this morning, like every other morning, he would try again.

The young boy sat down at his desk, he was wearing light blue summer robes, they flowed freely and the fabric was pretty thin and smooth; his hair was still damp from showering, but it fell loosely around his face. He munched on a few strawberries as he sorted through the small amount of mail he had gotten from his friends. Aimus had sent him a letter that had arrived through the night, but that was no surprise, they had been exchanging letters every other day for years now, despite seeing each other regularly. Whatever the two could be talking about all this time their guardians had no idea, but they saw no reason to discourage it. Flipping through the rest he noticed he also had letters from Aimus' sister Susan, and a letter address to him by a hand he did not recognize. He frowned but set it aside for later, he had more important things to worry about.

Noctis picked up his wand that he had left next to the parchment yesterday morning, like every morning, and drew in a deep breath. Ever so carefully and deliberately Noctis jabbed his wand at the parchment and spoke the words his grandmother had taught him: "Parvus Inflamare!" he declared, you could hear the dedication in his tone, almost as if he was daring the parchment to defy him.

The parchment darkened noticeably around the spot he had been focusing on, but there was no ignition. The boy bit his lip and tried again, and again, and again. At least half an hour had passed before he looked up from the parchment, a frown showing on his face now. He set his wand down with both hands and leaned back in his chair. Noctis knew that he just had to focus, he knew that, both his grandparents had repeated the words to him countless times over the last two weeks. Getting frustrated like he was beginning to would not help him now.

Noctis took a few moments and polished off the last of his strawberries and most of the water Dobby had brought him before turning to focus on the parchment full and proper again. The sun was finally starting to come fully above the horizon and cast bright light directly into his bedchambers, including over the desk he was working at. Noctis didn't mind, the feeling of the hot sun on his skin was relaxing.

With determination, he launched back into the spellcasting, with a renewed sense of determination. "Parvus Inflamare!" he intoned again, his words as careful and clipped as ever. Only this time his words were met with the tiniest spark that jumped onto the parchment and burnt a second, tiny hole into the centre of the parchment.

A wide grin spread over his face, but unlike last time when he had made a spark he stayed seated. Taking another deep breath he steadied his hand and tried again. "Parvus Inflamare!" he declared, jabbing his wand at the parchment again, only to be met with a second spark a bit larger than the first, that burned another, slightly larger hole into the parchment.

His grin widened and his reserve intensified. Noctis took one more deep, steadying breath and prodded his wand at the parchment once more. "Parvus Inflamarre!" he declared. This time, unlike every other, he watched as a small ball of flames leapt onto the parchment. The flames grew and flowed across the surface of the parchment, and before he even realized it the parchment was consumed.

Actually, Noctis wasn't realizing much of anything at the moment. He had just performed magic, real intentional magic, for the first time and it was unlike anything he had ever expected. No one had told him what to expect, and to be fair he had not asked, but it was incredible. He felt almost as if he had gathered up all the light around him, taken all the morning sun rays shining in through his window, and focused them on the parchment.

He was knocked out of his frozen stupor by the smell of smoke, the parchment was entire gone, consumed by the flames, but unfortunately, the flames had spread to his mail. Noctis shot forward and beat his hands against the burning corner of the letter he had gotten from Noctis. Thankfully he had noticed in time and suffocated the flames before much more than a corner of the letter was consumed.

He didn't waste time though going from panic mode to celebration. He whooped loudly and scooped up a handful of ashes from his desk before running out of his room as fast as he could toward the airy kitchen of Blackweald.

He tore through the halls and barely made it around several corners, but he had made it to the large airy room in record time. "I DID IT! I DID IT!" he cried excitedly to the entire room. Both his grandparents were there as well as Krasus, the oldest of the Black family's house elves. Strangely, Sirius was there too. He had not been to a family breakfast for months now. Noctis ran up to the small round table that they normally used for breakfasts like this one, and unthinking in his excitement, he threw the ashes from his hand onto the white tablecloth. "Look! Look! I finally did it! I cast the fire charm!" The boy's grin was brighter than the morning sun.

Noctis' smile was only matched by that of his grandparents. It was a momentous occasion, their grandchild and heir, the light of their lives, had cast his first spell.

"We're so proud of you darling! We knew it would not take long after you managed those sparks the other morning." Analise' smiled warmly at the boy and extended her hand over to hold Noctis' ash-covered hand while she spoke.

"Congratulations Noctis my boy, congratulations!" Arcturus' warm pride-filled smile made Noctis fill with warmth.

Sirius didn't say anything. Instead, the man got up from his chair and picked the boy up and into a tight hug, and whooped for joy.

But before Noctis even had a chance to reply, the room was interrupted by the voice of a newcomer.

"Oh Sirius! You told them without me? You promised you would wait for me before you announced the news!" Marlene McKinnon was standing in the doorway to the family kitchen and dining area. She was wearing a sundress decorated with summer flowers in brilliant reds, yellows and oranges. Her chestnut brown hair and pale heart-shaped face were brightly lit from the morning sunlight filtering in from the tall windows.

Sirius set Noctis down carefully and turned to face his girlfriend. "No dear, I hadn't just yet, we were just celebrating Noct-"

"Oh good! Because I wanted to do it!" Marlene said, she clearly did not care enough, or perhaps was just too excited, to listen to the rest of Sirius' sentence. Before anyone in the room could interject to ask exactly what news it was they were talking about, Marlene was speaking again. "We're engaged!" she exclaimed loudly, flapping her hands and jumping up and down a little, almost imperceptibly.

Analise and Arcturus sat frozen in their chairs, speechless at the news, and Sirius' new fiance's behaviour. Sirius had not consulted them on the decision at all, or even said that he was considering it. It was a total breach of family protocol, but they had reluctantly come to expect that from Sirius.

A few moments went by and the elderly couple still sat in astonished silence. Analise was the first to break, and carefully coached her face into a wide smile. "Wow, how unexpected! Sirius, Marlene! We are so happy for you dears! Aren't we Arcturus dear?" Analise's hand extended over to husband's and she squeezed it tightly, probably to force him out of his shock, but it just as easily could have been her telling him to comply.

"Yes of course! This is wonderful news!" Arcturus' tone echoed the cheerful happiness of his wife, it was almost too perfect - if there was any displeasure in his voice no one present could find it.

Noctis however, did not bother to feign excitement like his grandparents. "Congratulations Sirius, Marlene" he muttered, before politely excusing himself and quickly leaving the room. He had never liked the woman, she was always taking Sirius away from him and since they had started seeing each other he had begun to see Sirius less and less. It was at the point that the man was barely at Blackweald once a week. He couldn't help but be angry and upset, she was stealing him away - probably for good this time.

Noctis didn't go back to his room, he descended down several flights of stairs and made a beeline for the nearest exit. He wasted no time weaving through the many gardens surrounding his family's home until he reached a gazebo that bordered the edge of a small lily-pond on the edge of the forest. He sat in the gazebo and stared angrily into the pond. He still had his wand with him, he had been too excited at first to leave it in his room. He fingered it for a few minutes while continuing to stare angrily at the pond. How dare she take Sirius away from him? Who did she think she was? Noctis came to his feet again and pointed his wand at the pond and casting the fire charm again, this time at a lily-pad instead of parchment. He was angry sure, but he didn't want to accidentally burn down his favourite hiding place. Noctis cast several fire charms, a few of them even worked and hit the lily-pads, leaving black scorch marks but never actually succeeding in burning the aquatic plant.

A large black raven was perched nearby watching the young wizard casting spells at the lily-pads. It tilted its head, as if it were confused, before finally deciding to let out a loud croak, almost as if he approved of the action. If Noctis noticed he didn't react, instead he just kept on shooting spells at the lily-pads.

He had been torn up about missing Sirius most of the summer, hell, most of the last few years really. But now it just seemed it would get worse, now there was no hope for things to return to the way they were before.

-o-O-o-

It was just after dinner on a late August evening when Arcturus found himself in his study, gazing down at the artifacts he had pulled from his family's ancient vault. Everything he had withdrawn was considerably more complicated than he had imagined, he had spent most of this month pouring over the items and texts, ensuring that they were what he thought they were. In the case of the tome he had gotten for Noctis, it had taken him much longer than he anticipated to translate it, though not for a lack of trying. He was just fascinated by the material in the tome and he kept getting lost actually reading and analyzing the tome, pondering its contents, instead of simply translating it. But he had finally finished translating the text, and so a newer edition sat atop the old one.

But that is not what brought him to his study tonight. He had finally finished reading the scroll that accompanied the ancient chest he had withdrawn from the vault - what had led him on the journey to begin with. The scroll was written in an incredibly old language and it took Arcturus much longer to translate it than he was comfortable admitting to anyone but himself. He had had to ask his wife to assist him in identifying the language at first - which they did, as a very uncommon written form of an early indo-european language from the steps of the caucasus mountains. The script itself was not that old and its origin was still eluding him, but he hoped that with time he would begin to understand the mystery.

What was important was that he was finally able to translate the scroll, and that now he knew exactly what was inside the chest, and how to access it. After all this time he would finally have what he believed to be one of his family's most valuable treasures.

With decisive actions Arcturus spun his ring around on his finger so that the stone faced the same direction as his palm. With no grander ceremony than that, Arcturus pressed his cut hand against the top of the chest, carefully making sure that the ring contacted the middle of the chest's top.

He was not met with a fancy light show, an explosion of power, or anything of the sort. Instead, he simply felt something inside the chest click, though he had expected this. Cautiously he withdrew his hand from the chest and took a moment to carefully wipe the cut on his hand with a cloth he had prepared and soaked in some essence of dittany.

Finally, and cautiously, he examined the chest. A thin seam now ran around the chest, allowing for the top to be taken off. The old man carefully gripped the cover with both hands and carefully lifted it off of the box, revealing the three items inside.

The first looked like a finger sculpted out of clay, the second was a very small scroll, and the third and final was the treasure Arcturus had been looking for, a palm-sized slab of crystal that was roughly circular. Twelve smaller beads of coloured crystalline stones had somehow been embedded along the circumference of the large clear crystal stone. The four largest of them were blue, red, green and purple. Because of his time spent researching this artifact, Arcturus knew that these represented north, south, east and west. Hesitant to touch the artifact, the magical compass his ancient ancestors had crafted, he reached stead for the small scroll.

Arcturus unraveled it quickly as was relieved to see it was written in a script he was much more familiar with, old saxon. The scroll simply read, "Dearest descendant, within this chest you will find one of our family's dearest treasures, the use of which has been largely forgotten. Within the sculpted finger is a memory that I recovered from an ancient fortress in what is now called Alans, a region north of the easternmost edges of the Roman empire. The memory does not detail the origin of the device, but it does instruct one on how to use it, and what it is capable of. I have recorded the contents of this memory on a scroll similar to this one, in fear that the language spoken by those in the memory will one day be forgotten. I hope this will be of service to you and our great family, ancestor, it was very helpful to me, even before I knew its true power." The scroll was marked with a very familiar seal, that of his ancestor Canis Blæk.

Arcturus leaned back in his chair and exhaled slowly, the small scrap of unrolled paper still between his fingers, though now hanging from the side of his chair. After a few moments he sat up and took the device out of the chest, holding it flat in the palm of his hand. This device would have been so helpful when he was younger, it likely could have turned the tides of the war. If only they ha-

His ruminations were interrupted when Noctis opened the door and walked into the study.

"Noctis my boy! What a welcome surprise!" Arcturus smiled warmly at his great-grandson as he always did in private. What worried him though, is that the boy was not smiling back as he normally did. "Is everything okay Noctis? You don't seem yourself" he asked in a quiet tone.

Noctis simply nodded and slipped into this favourite armchair in the corner of his grandfather's office. After sitting quietly for a few moments fidgeting with the hem of his sleeve, Noctis finally spoke, "I'm okay grandfather, just worried." Noctis didn't look up from his sleeve while he spoke.

It was moments like these that really reminded Arcturus that Noctis was still a child, despite his normally very mature and bookish behaviour. Arcturus rose up from his chair and placed the ancient artifact carefully on the desk before walking over and taking the chair opposite to Noctis. "Tell me Noctis, what is bothering you?" His tone was soft and delicate.

"I am just worried that my sorting might disappoint you or grandmother, or Sirius…" Noctis's voice grew quieter with every word.

"Noctis, you know that your grandmother and I would not think less of you for your house, even if you are sorted into Gryffindor, we will treat you no differently" he reassured the boy. "Though we might just mount bars on your window if you are sorted in with the lions like Sirius was." Arcturus' fake serious tone did not fool Noctis for a moment, and the boy's frown gave way to a smile.

"Besides, your grandmother did not even go to Hogwarts, Noctis, so you know she should care least of all. But I will love and support you no matter what house you are sorted into. Just because I was in Slytherin does not mean I demand that of you." Arcturus' words were punctuated with a kind smile.

"But, on a happier note, I have a late birthday present for you!" Noctis' face lit up at the news, causing the older man to smile in response. Arcturus walked back over to his desk and sat in his chair, signaling for Noctis to come over.

"I brought this" Arcturus tapped the ancient book that sat on his desk "up from one of the family's Gringotts vaults the day after your birthday. I had hoped to give it to you earlier, but time has gotten away from me I am afraid, and translating it took a bit longer than expected."

Noctis stared at the ancient book, he had no idea what was inside and he could not see the spine or cover of the book to see what the title was.

Arcturus picked up the translated volume and handed it to Noctis with a smile. "Happy eleventh birthday grandson. I hope you will enjoy this special present."

Noctis took the book and opened it slowly to the first page. Scrawled across the top in his grandfather's elegant script were simply the words "My Kingdom, My Castle." Underneath those words, however, in small text, read the words "my memories and history, in service of my loved ones and ancestors. - Canis Blæk."

Noctis starred at the book in shock before getting up and running around the desk to hug his grandfather. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!" the small boy cried. "I'm going to start reading it right away!" he chimed, while already on his way back to his favourite chair in his grandfather's study.

Arcturus chucked and sat back at his desk, he leaned back in his chair and picked up a teacup, forgotten by the evening activities. Thankfully, a house elf had popped in at some point with fresh tea, if the steam coming from his cup was any indication. Arcturus turned his head and saw Noctis already deeply engrossed in the book. "As if there is any chance of you being anything but a Ravenclaw anyway my child."

-o-O-o-

 **A/N** : Hope you enjoyed, please review! I try to reply to all reviews so make sure you're logged in! What do you think the device does? It will be very important in future chapters! Big thanks to Sakura Lisel for pointing out a mistake!


	11. Departures (Part I)

**A/N** : I have edited chapters three since I last updated. The edits are minimal and do not require that you re-read it.

Thank you for your continued support, favorites, follows, and reviews. I hope that you all enjoy this newest chapter!

 **Chapter 11: Departures**

The evening of August 31st was a warm one. Blackweald was frozen in a quiet silence today. Tomorrow was the big day, Noctis would leave for his first year at Hogwarts. Like any other young witch or wizard, Noctis had been waiting for this moment his entire life. And Arcturus had spent years preparing for it, pushing new laws through the Wizanmangot, issuing reforms through the board of governors. He had worked hard to make sure Hogwarts was ready to receive his heir and protege.

The family has spent the day saying their private goodbyes. Analise and Noctis had spent the afternoon brewing simple potions and laughing with one another, simply enjoying one another's company. Analise was going to miss the boy so much, he brought so much light and energy into her life. She was not sure what she was going to do while he was gone.

Later in the evening, Arcturus took Noctis down into the catacombs of the Black family, as was tradition to do with every heir before they left for their first year at Hogwarts. The pair had stopped at the memorial for every previous Lord Black, and several of their spouses and secondary children, so that Arcturus could explain their significance and place in their family's history. Some of them received only a few moments attention while others took several minutes. Noctis was familiar with some already, but others were completely new to him. Noctis was, of course, fascinated.

After their trip to the catacombs, Arcturus and Noctis sat in a drawing room adjacent to the library. Noctis had slowly been inserting himself and possessions into the space over the last few months, and it was slowly beginning to feel like more of a study that a drawing room. Several of the seating arrangements had been removed to make room for a large desk, a large table that Noctis used for his runes work, and had introduced several large bookshelves that spanned the walls. It looked a bit like Arcturus' own study, but less ostentatious with its haphazard-artistic look.

The pair were seated in the corner of the room, near the dormant hearth, in one of the surviving seating arrangements comprised of a few winged armchairs and a loveseat. They were both nursing a glass of elf-made mead, though Noctis' glass was considerably smaller than Arcturus'.

The two had been sitting in the room for quite some time, originally Analise had also been in attendance, but she had since left for bed after being promised by Arcturus that he would not keep Noctis up too late.

But Noctis wouldn't have been able to sleep anyway. He was too excited and too nervous. Tomorrow would begin a brand new page in his life, and he barely knew what to expect.

They had been sitting in silence for a while, both of them reading books when Arcturus finally set his book down in his lap and broke the room's silence.

"Noctis, it is time that I made you aware of some of our family's more recent history." Arcturus' abrupt statement had shaken Noctis a little bit but he did his best not to show it. Following his grandfather's lead, he too closed his book and placed it on his lap and looked up expectantly at Arcturus.

Arcturus began carefully. "As you know well, our world is divided along some very decisive political lines."

Noctis simply nodded in response.

"I know you already understand the basics of this Noctis, but please bear with me. Beyond our systems of peerage and heritage that structure our governance, there are also political allegions. As you know, we belong to and are leaders of, a group of families dedicated to the preservation of magical tradition. We call ourselves the dark not because we are evil or any such nonsense that our enemies so often spout, but because of our deep historical connection to elements of the dark. The magic of our families was born in the cosmos, in the darkness between the stars and in the stars themselves, you know this, and your grandmother has explained the basics of this to you, but we don't expect you to understand the finer points of this mysticism yet…" Arcturus chuckled slightly at the wild look in Noctis' eyes; as if he expected Noctis to already know all the finer points of the deep and complex magical history, theory, and mysticism he was referencing. "Back to the topic at hand though, I won't bore you with another lesson on the different factions of the Wizanmangot, or even of the varying groups within those particular factions, but I want to talk to you about our role in the leadership of Wizenmangot, our faction, and our the world." Arcturus finished his sentence carefully, and paused for a moment before taking another drink of his mead; an act Noctis mirrored just moments later.

"Our family, the Blacks, and your family Noctis, the Peverells, along with house Bones, have a very long history as powerful wizards and witches in magical Europe. We have been there for every deciding moment in magical history, be it Arthur and Merlin's conquest against the muggles for our safety, Canis' and Magnentius' campaigns to restore the ancient kingdom on the continent, or even in the establishing of that ancient kingdom…" Arcturus' voice trailed off for a moment at this final statement.

"I myself have been involved in one of these moment's Noctis." Noctis' eyes opened wide in surprise, as his mind instantly set to whirring to piece together what his grandfather might be talking about.

"I'm not going to give you all the details tonight my boy, but listen closely, because I am telling you this to teach you a valuable lesson that I had to learn by making mistakes." Noctis still didn't speak, but simply nodded, scooting forward in his chair a bit almost as if he wanted to be closer to the story.

"When I was a boy, just a year or two older than you are now, I met someone, another boy just a few years older than I was then, who promised me greatness, and to make my dreams a reality." Arcturus began the story with a careful tone.

"Marus was a little unsettled by the older boy at first, but eventually between the older boy's efforts and my own growing devotion, Marus soon caved in as well and became just as devoted as I was." Arcturus paused, his brow furrowed as he looked up at no particular spot on the ceiling. "Marus and I remained a close friend of this other boy as we went through Hogwarts. He had many other friends like us, but he knew what Marus and I were capable of, who our families were and what our lineages represented, and so he kept us close." Arcturus paused again for a few moments while staring at the ceiling.

"Once Marus and I had finished Hogwarts, we left England to adventure around the continent. Our fathers were still alive and we didn't have the same level of responsibilities that we do now. We traveled all over the old world Noctis, chasing legends and myths, searching for ancient ruins and relics. We were idealists, we wanted to change the world and we were gathering the tools and knowledge to do so, lead by our friend who had promised us power as his equals while constructing this new world we all craved."

"Many years passed, Noctis. Your grandmother and I got married, and life went on, but Marus and I found ourselves as committed as ever. We were still hell-bent on changing the world, but somehow our friend had changed. He no longer saw us as equals, and the more he learned about our history, and our place in the world, the more he viewed us with suspicion. He was uneasy at the idea of our power, of our heritage, and what it might mean for him and the world he wanted to construct. We didn't realize it Noctis, but he played us, ever so carefully, so that Marus and I looked to him as our leader." Arcturus' face had a dark cast to it as he recounted his story. His brow was pulled into a furrow while he continued to stare at the ceiling.

"Some years later we found ourselves fighting his war. It was a bloody, vicious ordeal Noctis. Thousands died, and for what? What did we accomplish? What did we gain? Our once friend had named us generals, but he was working to name himself king. We accepted it as the young fools we were, intoxicated by the glory of our ideas, and the future he promised us."

"Marus and I experienced this together, and I expect he is giving Aimus this very same talk this very moment. I know you are both the closest of friends, and I hope it remains that way. He is the most invaluable ally you can ever have Noctis; Aimus will understand and undergo the very same pressures and obligations that you will. He will understand in ways that no one else will, or can."

"I suspect you know who our friend, was Noctis, but I will leave speaking his name aloud for when you are older, and when I can share the finer details of my youth with you. For now, know this. If we hadn't had one another, and if it wasn't for the constant efforts and guidance of our parents, Marus and I might have gone down a path neither of us could return from, much like our friend did." Arcturus' face was still cast in darkness at the painful memories.

"Noctis, I am telling you this story to teach you about who you must be, and what responsibilities you have. You have an obligation as the eventual heir of the Black family, and as the sole remaining Peverell, to never let another control you, ensnare you, or sway you from your course. No matter how powerful their magic, how grand their ideas, how wonderful their promises, Noctis, you are a Black, you are a Peverell, and the combined magic that flows through your veins is as old as the stars and darkness that separates them." Arcturus paused and took in a deep breath. When he released it much of the tension and darkness that has haunted his face seemed to go with it. "I am not saying that we are superior to other people, Noctis. In many ways, it is quite the opposite. We are destined for lives fighting to restore and maintain a sacred balance, while they can live jovially, relatively carefree. Because of the ancient magic that flows through our veins. We have an obligation to the world, our ancestors, and that same magic that graces us, that obligates us to be its careful stewards. You cannot forget that Noctis, do not become swayed by the ideas, quests, and campaigns of lesser witches and wizards. Remember always that greatness rests within us, and that it is a dangerous thing when corrupted, co-opted, or misguided."

"I will do my best to honor our ancestors, Grandfather," Noctis spoke carefully, considering everything his grandfather had shared with him. Noctis was a little taken aback. He knew that he had many political obligations as part of his role as the eventual heir to the Black family, but he had never given much thought to his inheritance of the Peverell magic, or his inheritance of any magic really, and what that might mean. He barely knew anything about the Peverell family, and his grandparents had always reassured him that they would tell him what they knew when it was time.

Noctis, of course, knew a bit about the origin of the ancient family's magic, bits and pieces he had picked up from the conversations around him. But now, he decided, it was time to learn more. He would look while he was at Hogwarts, and if nothing could be found there, he would spend all of next summer investigating it. His grandmother, he knew, would be the best place to start. As a priestess, she was as much of an expert on these things as anyone could be.

The two settled back into comfortable conversation as Noctis questioned his grandfather about his past. His grandfather didn't reveal much, save that he and Marus had fought side by side in a long bloody war. It was obvious to Noctis what war he was speaking about, and even who this mysterious friend of theirs was, but of course, Noctis would never speak it aloud until his grandfather was ready.

-o-O-o-

September first greeted them with a blazing sun, even hotter than the day before. Autumn might be quickly approaching but the summer wasn't ready to let go yet. But there were signs that autumn was approaching if you knew where to look. Many of the flowering summer plants in the gardens of Blackweald were in their final, most spectacular, bloom - and the sprites that lived in them were starting to break their playful and lazy habits of summer to build food stockpiles for the upcoming winter.

The most obvious sign of autumn's quick approach, however, was an eleven-year-old wizard darting through the halls of Blackweald, triple checking that he had not forgotten anything. It was already getting near 10 o'clock and if they didn't leave soon they would not get the chance for a traditional goodbye at the platform.

"Noctis it is time to leave. If you have forgotten anything we'll send it in the owl post! Don't worry!" Analise called to Noctis, who she had just spotted sprinting down the hall between his makeshift study next to the library and his bedchambers.

The boy froze in his tracks, nearly falling over and dropping the thick book he was carrying. "I promise we will send anything you forget. And occasional books, so long as you keep up your official studies the way we expect you to." Analise said the last comment with a smile playing on the corner of her mouth.

Noctis, still frozen in place, took a moment and then simply nodded. "Okay, just let me pack this last book and I will be right down," he replied, seemingly placated that he would not be stuck without any of the books he wanted that might not be available at Hogwarts.

Without another word he left again, sprinting down the hall to pack this last book, much to Analise' amusement.

Ten minutes or so later found Noctis running down the stairs and into the entry hall, his black trunk gilded with copper trim following politely behind him, courtesy of Dobby's magic. The trunk was on the larger side and its cover was adorned with both the obsidian raven of the Black family and the silver thestral of the Peverells on either side of large decorative N.V.B.P., Noctis' initials, made out of the same copper as the trunk's trim.

"All ready to go Noctis?" His grandmother asked. She was dressed in smart silver robes that she favored in the summer months, with a thin black traveling cloak trimmed with black fur so that she looked more formal.

Noctis nodded and shrugged into a similar traveling cloak that his grandfather had handed him. His robes were the normal ones he would wear in public, black trimmed with bronze, but they too were made of a lighter material and enchanted with cooling charms to account for the summer's heat.

"Sirius said he will meet us at the platform, Noctis," Arcturus said, his tone careful. Noctis had been reacting unpredictably at any mention of Sirius ever since Marlene had so rudely interrupted his celebrations to announce that she and Sirius would be getting married.

Animosity seemingly forgotten, at least temporarily, Noctis nodded with a cautious smile but chose not to reply.

Only time would tell what was in store for Noctis and Sirius.

-o-O-o-

September first was not the same where the Potters were concerned. Eleven-year-old Jamie potter was running around his family's home collecting his belongings that he had neglected to pack until now - much to his mother's chagrin.

His father, however, had suddenly been called into work and left not long after breakfast but promised to meet them at the platform before the train left.

Jamie was wearing his first year Hogwarts robes already, it was his mother's idea. She said that she had worn hers for her first train ride because, as a muggleborn, she was not sure what else to wear. She suggested to Jamie that it might be good for magical children to do the same so that the muggleborns would not feel so alienated.

Jamie had, of course, agreed, and talked Ron into it also.

But today his robes were not the issue. After getting his wand, a rather short combination of blackthorn and unicorn hair, he had promptly forgotten about it, thinking he was unable to use it to cast magic yet. Neither of his parents bothered to correct him, perhaps they themselves didn't know.

He had already torn apart all of the rooms he frequented, including his father's study, the kitchen and the couch near the quidditch section in the family library - but he had had no luck yet. He was just on his way back to his bedroom to turn it over again when he was cornered by his mother, who was marching down the hall toward him, one hand on her hip, the other grasping his wand.

"It was under your bed. I swear, if you ever lose this again I will cast a permanent sticking charm so that it will never leave your hand again!" Lilly's famous temper was flaring, she had been lecturing Jamie about taking proper care of his wand long before he had even gotten the damn thing.

"M'sorry Mum," Jamie muttered, before running off back to his bedroom to haul his trunk down to so they could leave.

"Show me with your actions, not your words. Now go get your trunk and be downstairs in ten minutes!" Lilly called down the hall after him, her tone was still harsh but it did not carry the same bite of anger that it did a moment ago.

A few moments later Jamie could be seen running from his room hauling his trunk behind him. It was made of a simple dark wood with black iron fittings, it was definitely an expensive piece of craftsmanship, but it was considerably more humble than many of the chests used by the other children of the Ancient houses, even most of the lower noble houses.

The trunk thumped down the stairs ahead of Jamie, who had lost control of it while trying to haul it down the stairs. It arrived at the bottom of the stairs just a few seconds before he did, toppling over and spilling its contents all over the floor.

Lilly just sighed and waved her wand over the mess, causing the contents to sort themselves back into the trunk, probably much neater than Jamie had done.

"Don't forget to lock the trunk, Jamie, so that that does not happen again." Lilly's anger had completely faded now. She was now wearing a long beige jacket over her muggle blue jeans and a knitted jumper - a far cry from what was typically worn by a woman of her station.

Jamie nodded, a sheepish smile gracing his face. He retrieved his wand from his pocket and tapped it against the metal plate on the front of the trunk, locking it closed.

"Right, are you ready hon?" Lilly asked as she fussed over his robes and hair, straightening them both from their usual disheveled condition.

"Yes, mum," Jamie said, squirming to try and escape his mother's fussing.

Lilly took a step back and pursed her lips at her son's rejection of her grooming, but it quickly bled away into a smile. "I'm so excited for you Jamie love, your first day of Hogwarts. It is such an important day for you, a new chapter of your life."

Lilly wiped away a couple sentimental tears and stepped toward the fire, he hand behind her son's back, and his trunk now following behind them thanks to a nonverbal spell she had quickly cast with a flick of her wand.

"Now, let's get you to the platform young man."

-o-O-o-

It was a was quarter past ten, and Platform Nine and Three Quarters was just starting to become a flurry of activity. People were bursting out through the fires every few seconds, followed by trunks and pet carriers. The portal wall was starting to get busy too, with people streaming in through it near constantly. It was a wonder the muggles didn't notice such a long line of people disappearing into a wall.

The Longbottoms had arrived a few minutes ago, and the small family unit was fussing over Neville as he prepared to leave for his first year of school. The boy was thin and tall, much like his father, but with his mother's soft features. HIs grandfather, Brontus, was also there. He stood tall over his family, his broad frame dressed in the same traditions robes befitting of his station, but he had forgone the traditional travel cloak, likely because of the heat.

The Weasley family was just starting to pour in through the portal, it was unusual for a pureblood family to enter the platform that way but they had always been a little strange. Arthur entered first, he was wearing nice formal robes and it appeared he had come straight from work. He was fledged by his two oldest sons, both of whom were dressed in the traditional robes expected of the of-age members of an Ancient family. They were finished Hogwarts now but they had come to see their siblings off, and both their youngest siblings would be starting Hogwarts this year. It was unusual for the Weasleys to be so early for the train, but grander miracles happened every day.

They Weasleys were just sorting themselves out and gathering in a cluster not far from the Longbottoms when the Potters were spat out of the fire. Lily came out in a stride, her long jacket and hair flowing behind her while she walked off the added speed of being spit out by the floo.

Jamie, however, was not as graceful and was only spared the embarrassment of falling flat on his face because Lily knew to reach out an arm and steady him.

Ron wasted no time running over to greet his best friend, and before Jamie really had a chance to collect his bearing, Ron was dragging him over to his family by the hem of his robes. Lily followed behind them at her own pace, her eyes searching the crowd to find her husband, it appeared that he was yet to arrive.

The fires flared behind them, and the floo spat out the Malfoy family. They dusted themselves off and made their way over to an area where other members of the lower nobility were standing. It was lucky that they didn't linger, because seconds after them the Marus Bones erupted from the fire, followed closely by his wife and two grandchildren, Susan and Aimus. Marus, Aimus, and Susan were all pale-skinned, enough so that Marus' wife Alena seemed pale in comparison, even though she was quite fair skinned herself.

Lord Ollivander was quick to greet the Bones family, as he met the heads of the other ancient families. Normally he made less of a show of it, but Marus was married to his sister after all, and so the pair had always been amicable.

"Marus old friend, well met." The old wizard said, extending his arm.

Marus extended his own and the two men gripped one another's forearms firmly. "Well met brother. We appreciate your presence today, Garrick."

"Nonsense, it is tradition. There are many new amongst our families this year. My family may not be sending children to Hogwarts this year, but tradition dictates that we stand guard together, to see them off."

Marus nodded in agreement, but before he could form a verbal response the fires flared behind them and they rushed out of the way.

Green floo flames crawled over the Black family as they exited the large arched hearths that contained the magical gateways. They were not spat unceremoniously from the flames like so many others. Instead, they walked from the flames at a measured and leisurely pace. The picture of grace, as always.

Noctis emerged just behind his grandfather, his trunk floated behind obediently, with a copper-colored cage for Noctis' owl, that he had named Huginn, in dedication to the norse mythology he loved so dearly, attached securely atop it.

Arcturus and Marus greeted one another almost instantly with the same grasped forearms that Marus had exchanged with Garrick. They didn't speak and they didn't really need to. The two were as close as anyone could be, and the wizarding world knew and respected it.

After greeting Arcturus, however, Marus marched over to Noctis. "Well met, young thestral." Marus extended his arm to repeat again the traditional greeting of ancient houses, something that was normally limited to the Lords of the houses while in public. Marus extending the courtesy to Noctis was quite symbolic, and it set a clear precedent for all to see, that Noctis was to be respected just as he, Arcturus, and the other Lords of the ancient houses were.

Aimus greeted Noctis just moments later with a quick handshake and toothy grin. The two boys were ecstatic to start Hogwarts.

Fortunately for Noctis, Jamie and Lily seemed, as of yet, ignorant of his arrival. And he himself was also ignorant of their presence, especially since he was busy being greeted by several of the lesser noble families.

Bill seemed to be the only person in their group that had noticed the arrival of the Black's. Knowing that his father would never extend the courtesy expected of him in his role as Lord of the Weasley family, Bill excused himself quietly and made his way over to the small congregation that surrounded Noctis.

"Well met Hier Weasley," Marus stated in an even tone, alerting the group to the red-headed man's presence.

"Well met Lord Bones." Was Bill's even reply. "And you as well, Lord Black." Bill nodded at the two men, just deep enough that it verged on a bow. "And Lord Ollivander, thank you for coming."

Garrick nodded in response with a simple smile. "Tradition and honor demand no less."

Bill nodded dutifully, shooting a wary look in his father's direction at the same time. "But I remain grateful on behalf of my family, nonetheless."

The three lords all understood what Bill was leaving unsaid. It was incredibly rude of Arthur not to greet them himself. And while Arthur still had time to do so, past experience told them it was incredibly unlikely that he would even look in their direction without sneering.

Before long two cracks, typical of apparition, could be heard on the platform. Technically apparition was banned on the platform for security reasons, but the Aurors all wore an enchanted pendant that allowed them to bypass the anti-apparition wards that protected the platform, and other areas like St. Mungos and the main stretch of Diagon Alley.

The Aurors, two of them, had appeared with their backs facing most of the crowd, but they appeared to be two men with Black hair. Noctis and Jamie didn't need the men to turn around to know who the aurors were. Both sprouted large smiles when they realized who had arrived, though for slightly different reasons.

The pair of aurors turned around, revealing Sirius Black and James Potter dressed in their auror uniforms.

Arcturus shared none of Noctis' joy at Sirius' arrival. His face was shadowed with approaching thunderclouds. Unlike Noctis, Arcturus took notice of who Sirius had arrived with, and he was anything but happy with the man's choice of company.

The two men split apart to go join their families, but not before Arcturus and James locked eyes. Arcturus' face was coached into a stony glare. The storm clouds that hid behind his eyes and cast shadows around his face only intensified after seeing Sirius with the man.

If Arcuturs was doing a relatively good job at hiding his anger, James was a complete abject failure. His face was contorted into an ugly sneer that revealed his teeth - now barred at the old Lord. While Arcturus' anger was stone cold and barely restrain, James' was a hot rage that threatened to consume everything around it.

James didn't dare actually approach them. Instead, he continued forward toward his family, keeping a hostile and suspicious eye turned toward Arcturus all the while.

Noctis did not mirror his grandfather's anger. No, Noctis was just fundamentally confused. They did not talk about his birth family much, if ever, really. He knew who they are, and he had a rough idea of why they tossed him out of their home, not that he understood it. He had, of course, seen Lily and James Potter before, at events when they actually bothered to show up.

Noctis had never, however, seen his brother until this very moment.

Jamie Potter looked almost nothing like him. Where Noctis was tall and narrow, Jamie was of average height and build. Instead of Noctis' sharp aristocratic features, Jamie's face was slightly rounded and warm, like their mothers. His hair had also lightened since birth, and unlike Noctis' black hair, Jamie's was a dark brown. Two brothers really couldn't look less similar.

Noctis has no idea how he felt about the other boy. And he had no idea how to act around him either. He hoped that they wouldn't be in the same house and that they'd have as few classes together as possible. He would have to be careful where he sat, to never get paired with the boy.

By now several people had noticed Noctis' staring, including Analise and Aimus. Analise smiled pitifully and placed her hand on the boy's shoulder to give it a reassuring squeeze. Noctis didn't react aside from giving a small smile that was almost a grimace.

Aimus, however, narrowed his eyes at the other boy. He knew who the boy was. It was a poorly kept secret that Noctis and Jamie were born siblings. But those things were not really spoken about. The magical word, those who still attended to tradition at least, determined the heritage of a witch or wizard by who raised them, who taught them magic, and whose customs they were brought up using - not who gave birth to them. Quite idiosyncratically, blood meant very little to "pureblooded" wizards; family, magic, and tradition, that is what they cared about. Why the light believed they were so obsessed with 'blood' was beyond them.

Aimus made a mental note to keep Noctis away from the other boy. He doubted that Noctis and Jamie would be sorted together, they seemed to have nothing in common from a glance.

Jamie was too busy being fawned over by his father to notice Noctis.

"Sirius" Arcturus greeted when the younger man finally found and reached their group. Arcturus' tone was surprisingly even, given the anger that shone from behind his eyes.

"Grandfather" Sirius replied, a bit sheepishly. He knew he was in trouble for showing up with James. He had sworn off the man's friendship years ago, and Arcturus was glad for it. Nothing good had ever come of his friendship with the Potters. He had broken his mother's heart, he had alienated himself from many ancient families, and his own. The Potters had brought Dumbledore into his life, for Merlin's sake. Why was Sirius so willing to forgive them?

"We'll talk about this later," Arcturus said, putting an end to any discussion on the topic. But anger still shone from the wizened old wizard's eyes.

Sirius tried to swallow the heavy lump that formed in his throat to no avail while trying to anticipate what his grandfather would do to him. He had a good idea.

But Sirius put those thoughts away for a moment. At least, as much as he could. "Where's our little fledgling wizard at!?" he asked the group, pretending not to see Noctis for a few moments. "Aha! There he is!" Sirius swooped in and scooped Noctis up into a bear hug, squeezing the air out of him, along with a few laughs also. Before letting him go Sirius tucked something into Noctis' pocket without explanation. He set the boy down and answered his inquisitive look with a wink.

Troubles forgotten, Noctis went back to the bubbling excitement that he felt before the Potters arrived.

-o-O-o-

"Be good, grandson" his grandparents spoke simultaneously. It was a little scary how they could do that sometimes.

"Be sure to write, Noctis!" his grandmother called as she finally left him with a kiss on his forehead.

"Make us proud Noctis" were his grandfather's parting words has Noctis disappeared into the Hogwarts express, tailed by Aimus who was receiving similar goodbyes from his own family.

Noctis and Aimus waited a few moments for Aimus' cousin Susan to follow behind them. They wandered up the corridor of the train a small way before they finally found an empty compartment.

The three of them settled into the compartment comfortably. They helped each other lift their trunks up to the luggage racks without trouble before sorting themselves out. They each took up a corner seat, with the remaining corner playing host to Susan's pet kneazle, Artemis.

The three children sat together in an excited silence for a few moments. Each of them wore wide grins on their face. They had been waiting for this moment their entire lives.

A few moments passed and they heard the steam engine's whistle screech loudly.

"And we're off to Hogwarts," Noctis said, grinning from ear to ear.

 **A/N:** Longest chapter yet, wow! You'll have to wait for the next chapter for the sorting, sorry!

As you can see I've taken some minor liberties with the ages of the Weasley children. Recently I have been (re-)reading the incredible "Saving Connor" series by Lightning On the Wave. I really like their style of including interludes that contain letters between characters; so I am going to copy them and do that.

Hope you all enjoyed! Please review! I read and appreciate them all, and reply to everyone via PM when possible.


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